Cv 


PRINCETON,    N.    J. 


Shelf.... 


Division . 
Sectio7i  . 
Ntifuber.. 


^cc 


TEACHINGS  AND  COUNSELS 


CUjentj)  lUaccalauaate  S^txmon^ 


IVITIl  A  DISCOURSE  ON  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD 


BY 

/ 

MARK   HOPKINS,  D.D.,  LLD. 


NEW    YORK 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1884 


Copyright,  1874,  1884, 
By  mark   HOPKINS. 


Pressor  J.J.  I,ittle&Co., 
Nos.  10  to  20  Asior  I'lace,  New  York. 


PEI 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  baccalaureate  sermons  were  originally- 
published  in  pamphlets  at  the  time  they  were  deliv- 
ered. With  one  exception  they  were  subsequently  modi- 
fied, their  order  was  changed,  and  they  were  published  in 
a  volume  entitled  "  Strength  and  Beauty. "  The  exception 
was  the  discourse  on  "  Providence  and  Revelation,"  de- 
livered in  1865,  containing  my  estimate  of  President  Lin- 
coln and  some  remarks  on  the  war.  The  texts  are  now 
restored,  the  discourses  are  placed  in  the  order  in  which 
they  were  delivered,  and,  though  the  more  immediate  ad- 
dress to  the  class  is  still  in  some  instances  abbreviated  or 
modified,  they  are  yet  substantially  as  they  were  Thus 
all  the  published  baccalaureates  are  now  given  in  their 
order,  and  to  these  is  added,  as  being  in  the  same  line, 
and  as  a  tribute  to  the  most  distinguished  graduate  of  the 
College,  the  discourse  on  President  Garfield. 

The  subjects  of  the  discourses  are  of  permanent  inter- 
est, and  the  favor  with  which  the  former  book  has  been 
received  leads  me  to  hope  for  a  permanent  interest  in  this. 
The  change  is  made  in  accordance  with  the  expressed 
wish  of  some  of  those  who  heard  them,  and  also  because 
it  may  be  of  interest  in  the  future  history  of  the  College 
to  know  what  final  teachings  and  counsels  were  given  from 
1850  onward  to  so  many  classes. 

M.  H. 

Williams  College,  yuiy,  18S4. 

iii 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

PAGB 

Faith,  Philosophy,  and  Reason, i 

II. 
Strength  and  Beauty, -         .    24 

III. 

Receiving  and  Giving,  ....  45 

IV. 
Perfect  Love, .64 

V. 

Self-Denial, 83 

VI. 

Higher  and  Lower  Good, 102 

VII. 
The  One  Exception, 117 

VIII. 

The  Manifoldness  of  Man, 135 

IX. 
Nothing  to  be  Lost, 155 

V 


VI  CONTENTS. 

X. 

PAGE 

God's  Method  of  Social  Unity, 177 

XI. 

Enlargement, 196 

XII. 

Choice  and  Service,       ....  ,  .  212 

XIII. 
Providence  and  Revelation, 230 

XIV. 
^^/The  Bible  and  Pantheism,  251 

XV. 

On  Liberality  in  Religious  Belief,     .        .         ,  .265 

XVI. 
Zeal, 283 

XVII. 

Spirit,  Soul,  and  Body,        ...  ...  301 

XVIII. 
Life, 322 

XIX. 
The  Body  the  Temple  of  God,  ...  .  339 

XX. 

The  Circular  and  the  Onward  Movement,       .        .        .  357 

XXI. 

Memorial  Discourse  on  President  Garfield,  .        .  375 


TEACHINGS  AND  COUNSELS 


I. 


FAITH,  PHILOSOPHY,  AND  REASON. 

Who  through  faith  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness,  obtained  prom- 
ises, stopped  the  mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped 
the  edge  of  the  sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant 
in  fight,  turned  to  flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens.— Hebrews,  xi.  33,  34. 

WHAT  more  heroic  action  have  we  on  record  than 
those  of  the  men  who  through  faith  subdued  king- 
doms. The  word  "  hero,"  does  not  occur  in  the  Bible. 
Nothing  can  be  more  opposite  to  its  spirit  than  that  self- 
sufficiency  and  recklessness  of  human  rights  and  suffer- 
ings which  are  commonly  associated  with  this  term.  Still, 
there  are  no  higher  examples  of  a  true  heroism  than  the 
Bible  presents.  These  exploits  were  performed,  indeed, 
in  ancient  times,  but  are  such  as  we  should  be  glad  to  see 
emulated  in  the  midst  of  the  light  and  advantages  of  our 
day.  We  have  a  right  to  expect,  as  the  stream  of  time 
rolls  on  and  pours  its  accumulated  wealth  at  the  feet  of  new 
generations,  that  there  shall  not  only  be  an  increase  in  the 
knowledge  of  nature,  but  that  there  shall  be,  at  least,  no 
failure  in  the  breadth  and  compass  of  a  comprehensive 
wisdom,  or  in  the  might  of  a  true  manhood  that  is  ready  to 
do  and  to  suffer  in  the  cause  of  humanity  and  of  God. 

But  not  only  may  7ve  expect  this ;  it  is  also  intimated 
by  the  Apostle  that  it  is  expected  and  watched  for  by  those 
who  have  gone  before  us.  He  represents,  those  worthies 
and  veterans  who  had  finished  their  own  course,  as  gathered 
into  a  vast  assembly,  forming  "  a  cloud  of  witnesses,"  and 
watching  with  intense  interest  the  bearing  of  those  who 

*:(:*  August  iS,  1850. 


2  FAITH,    PHILOSOPHY,   AND    REASON. 

follow  them.  "Seeing  then,"  says  he,  "that  we  are  com- 
passed about  with  so  great  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  let  us  run 
with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us." 

This  race,  my  friends,  I  would  now  invite  you  to  run. 
Vou  are  especially  called  upon  to  emulate  the  example  of 
the  great  and  good, — to  do  deeds  that  shall  not  only  cause 
joy  on  earth,  but  shall  send  a  new  thrill  through  the  vast 
assembly  of  those  who  have  gone  before  you. 

But  if  you  are  to  do  the  deeds  of  these  ancieni  heroes 
you  must  be  girded  with  the  same  armor,  be  controlled  by 
the  same  principle,  must  have  the  same  prize  in  your  eye, 
and  be  sustained  by  the  same  power.  Fruitful  as  the  nine- 
teenth century  has  been  in  inventions,  it  yet  furnishes  none 
for  making  great  and  good  men.  The  great  tree  must 
grow  now  from  the  same  earth,  and  under  the  same  sun, 
and  by  the  same  processes  and  ministrations  of  dew  and 
rain  and  storms,  as  the  great  tree  of  old  ;  and  so,  now,  as 
of  old,  must  the  life  and  might  of  true  greatness  be  drawn 
from  the  same  fountains,  and  work  themselves  out  by  es- 
sentially the  same  processes.  Were  these  deeds  performed 
of  old  only  by  faith  ?  then  only  by  faith  will  they  be  per- 
formed now. 

What  then  is  Faith }  Avowed  by  Christianity  as  its 
peculiar  principle  of  action,  ridiculed  by  the  philosophers, 
is  it  indeed  some  new,  or  peculiar,  or  blind,  or  fanatical 
principle  ?  Or  is  it  one  of  those  grand  and  universal  prin- 
ciples which  underlie  human  action,  which  are  necessary 
to  true  heroism,  to  a  right  philosophy,  to  individual  and 
social  perfection,  and  which  must,  in  the  progress  of  light, 
come  more  and  more  into  distinct  recognition  and  general 
acknowledgment  ? 

Whatever  faith  may  be,  it  must  be  conceded  that 
the  accounts  given  of  it  by  its  advocates  have  been  neither 
uniform  nor  consistent.     It  has  been  said  to   be  simple 


FAITH,    PHILOSOPHY,   AND    REASON.  3 

belief  founded  on  evidence,  and  not  differing  from  any 
other  belief;  to  be  belief  in  testimony  ;  to  be  belief  for 
reasons  not  derived  from  intrinsic  evidence  ;  to  be  a  belief 
on  the  ground  of  probable,  as  distinguished  from  demon- 
strative evidence ;  to  be  a  belief  in  things  invisible  and 
supernatural ;  to  be  a  trust ;  and  more  recentl}^,  and 
transcendentally,  it  has  been  said  to  be  an  07'gan  of  the 
soul  by  which  it  becomes  cognizant  of  the  invisible  and 
the  supernatural. 

To  some,  this  diversity  of  statement  may  seem  to  indi- 
cate that  there  can  be  nothing  in  faith  very  definite  or 
important.  To  me  it  indicates  the  reverse  j  for  while  men 
do  certainly  differ  about  things  which  are  indefinite  and 
obscure,  yet  it  is  also  found  that  they  come  latest,  if  at  all, 
to  the  investigation  of  those  principles  which  are  the  most 
intimate  and  essential,  and  that  they  are  nowhere  less 
likely  to  come  to  a  uniform  and  satisfactory  result.  As 
in  mathematics  the  truths  that  are  most  nearly  intuitive 
are  the  last  and  the  most  difficult  to  be  demonstrated,  so 
here  the  principles  and  processes  which  are  so  essential 
that  they  seem  inwoven  into  our  being,  are  the  last  to  be 
investigated  and  the  most  difficult  to  be  satisfactorily 
explained.  Men  are  no  better  agreed  what  reason  is,  or 
what  personal  identity  consists  in,  than  they  are  what  faith 
is ;  and  yet  as  those  who  think  wrongly  on  these  subjects 
may,  and  do,  exercise  their  reason,  and  continue  the  same 
persons  precisely  as  they  would  if  they  thought  rightly,  so 
those  who  make  different  statements  in  regard  to  faith, 
or  exercise  faith,  receive  the  benefits  of  faith  in  precisely" 
the  same  way. 

That  the  term  faith  may  not  be  used  loosely  and  popu- 
larly to  designate  the  ideas  just  mentioned,  and  also 
others,  I  would  not  say  ;  but  the  inquiry  now  is,  What, 
generically,  and  specifically,  is  that  Faith   upon  which  the 


4  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

Bible  insists  as  essential  to  salvation,  and  by  which  the 
great  deeds  it  records  were  performed  ?  Can  this  faith  be 
so  defined  that  our  idea  of  it  shall  be  distinct,  that  it  shall 
harmonize  with  philosophy  and  with  reason,  and  that  it 
shall  be  adequate  to  the  great  offices  assigned  to  it  in  the 
Bible  ? 

I  propose,  first,  to  answer  these  inquiries  ;  and  sec- 
ondly, to  speak  of  the  offices  of  faith — more  particularly, 
of  its  office  as  a  principle  of  action  to  be  adopted  by  every 
young  man. 

The  generic  definition  of  faith  which  I  would  pro- 
pose, is,  that  it  is  confidence  in  a  personal  being.  Faith  lives 
and  moves  and  has  its  being  only  in  the  region  of  person- 
ality. Whatever  we  may  believe  respecting  things  visible 
or  invisible,  on  any  other  ground  than  our  confidence  in  a 
personal  being,  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  faith.  It 
implies  the  recognition  of  a  moral  nature,  and  a  convic- 
tion of  the  trustworthiness  of  the  being  possessed  of  such 
a  nature. 

This  definition  of  faith  implies  a  division  of  this  universe 
into  two  departments,  that  of  persons,  and  that  of  things  ; 
and,  in  connection  with  this  division,  will  give  us  a  clear 
distinction  between  philosophy  and  faith.  The  sphere 
of  faith  is  the  region  of  personality,  that  of  philosophy  is 
the  region  of  things.  Each  of  these  spheres  addresses  oui 
sensibilities  and  calls  for  investigation,  but  in  accordance 
with  its  own  nature  and  laws. 

By  things,  are  called  forth  in  the  region  of  sensibility, 
the  emotions  of  beauty,  of  sublimity,  and  of  admiration  ; 
by  persons,  in  addition  to  these,  confidence,  affection, 
passion. 

In  her  investigations  in  the  department  of  things,  phil- 
osophy is  concerned,  not  with  all  knowledge,  but  chiefly 


FAITI^,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  5 

with  resemblances  in  those  things  that  exist  together,  and 
with  uniformities  in  those  that  exist  in  succession.  These 
are  the  basis  of  all  classification,  of  all  inductive  reason- 
ing— and  it  is  through  these  that  we  get  all  our  ideas  of 
physical  order  and  law. 

Philosophy  presupposes  a  knowledge  of  things  as  they 
exist  separately.  This  being  given,  she  neglects  all  indi- 
vidual peculiarities,  and  proceeds  to  group  them  according 
to  their  resemblances,  and  to  give  them  collective  names. 
In  doing  this  she  acquires  for  man  power,  and  practical 
guidance,  because  a  resemblance  in  external  signs  denotes 
a  resemblance  in  essential  properties.  This  gives  value  to 
the  signs  of  nature,  and  shows  that  in  the  department  of 
resemblances  she  is  constituted  on  the  basis  of  truth. 

But  not  only  does  philosophy  notice  resemblances  in 
beings  and  phenomena  that  exist  together,  she  also  notices 
uni-fermity  of  succession ;  and  is  thus  enabled  to  foretell  the 
future,  and  to  act  wisely  with  reference  to  it.  She  believes 
in  a  uniformity  of  succession  according  to  the  order  that  is 
established.  She  investigates  the  laws  in  accordance  with 
which  this  succession  moves  on.  As  among  things  that 
exist  together,  she  knows  nothing  of  individual  peculiar- 
ities, so  in  phenomena  that  exist  in  succession,  she  knows 
nothing  of  exceptions,  and  admits  with  great  reluctance,  or 
not  at  all,  that  such  exceptions  really  exist. 

Such,  except  as  she  may  be  said  to  investigate  causes, 
is  philosophy,*  She  stands  in  the  centre  of  things  that  co- 
exist, and  passes  onward  and  outward  to  the  farthest  star, 
stepping  more  or  less  firmly  as  the  resemblances,  by  which 
alone  she  proceeds,  are  more  or  less  perfect ;  she  stands 
at  the  present  point  in  things  that  succeed  each  other,  and 
binds  the  future  to  the  past  by  what  she  conceives  to  be  an 
inexorable  law. 

*  When  this  was  written  philosophy  had  not,  in  this  country,  been  distin- 
guished from  science,  as  it  has  since  been.  Writing  now,  the  word  science 
would  be  substituted  for  philosophy  in  many  instances  in  this  discourse. 


6  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY    AND    REASON. 

But  it  may  be  inquired  whether  philosophy  does  not 
extend  to  the  domain  of  mind.  Yes,  so  far  as  mind  is  a 
thing,  and  hence  under  the  law  of  an  absolute  uniformity, 
but  no  farther.  The  moment  a  personal  being  is  placed 
under  that  law  of  nature  by  which  that  which  follows  is 
necessarily  the  product  of  that  which  precedes,  personality 
ceases,  and  you  have  mere  nature — a  thing.  The  very  idea 
of  that  necessary  uniformity  upon  which  philosophy  is  based, 
precludes  that  of  personality.  It  also  precludes  the  idea  of 
faith  ;  for  whatever  we  may  believe  without  the  range  of 
personality,  and  on  whatever  grounds,  there  is  always  want- 
ing that  element  which  enters  into  faith  by  which  a  per- 
son may  be  said  not  only  to  have  confidence,  but  to  be 
confiding. 

The  sphere  of  faith,  as  opposed  to  that  of  philosophy, 
is,  as  I  have  said,  the  region  of  personality.  Here  we  find 
affections,  and  a  moral  nature,  and  a  free-will.  Ii^  the 
sphere  of  things  we  deal  with  similarities,  and  uniformities 
of  succession,  and  laws,  and  do  not  necessarily  know  any- 
thing back  of  these.  We  may  indeed  refer  them  all  to  a 
personal  agent,  but  for  the  grounds  of  our  belief  we  are  not 
necessitated  to  go  beyond  the  uniformities  and  laws  them- 
selves. We  have  in  these  nothing  of  the  great  element  of 
character.  But  in  our  dealings  with  personal  beings,  what- 
ever ground  we  may  have  for  belief,  either  of  what  they 
say,  or  of  what  they  will  do,  must  be  found,  not  in  any  law, 
not  in  any  unvarying  uniformity  conceived  of  as  necessary 
but  in  the  character  of  the  personal  being.  This  is  an  ele- 
ment entirely  different  from  any  found  in  the  sphere  of 
philosophy,  and  it  is  upon  this  that  faith  fixes.  This  is  the 
grand  peculiarity  of  faith  ;  it  is  confidence  in  a  personal 
being.  Like  belief,  it  admits  of  degrees.  As  the  highest 
form  of  belief  is  certainty,  so  the  highest  form  of  faith  is 
such  a  confidence  in  the  character  of  any  being  as  will  lead 
us  to  believe  whatever  he  may  say  because  he  says  it^  and 


FAITH,   PHILOSOHPY   AND   REASON.  J 

to  commit  implicitly  into  his  hands  every  interest  of  our 
being. 

And  as  that  without  us  which  calls  forth  faith,  is  so 
differeni  from  that  which  is  the  basis  of  philosophy,  so,  it 
may  be  remarked,  is  that  within  us  which  is  brought  into 
action  also  different.  Doubtless  the  nature  of  man  is  pre- 
conformed  to  the  state  into  which  he  is  to  come,  and  as  he 
naturally  conforms  himself  to  the  uniformities  of  nature,  so 
does  he,  though  by  a  different  principle,  naturally  confide 
in  those  to  whom  his  being  is  intrusted.  It  is  not  to  be 
supposed  that  that  feeling  of  confidence  with  which  the  in- 
fant looks  up  into  the  eye  of  its  mother,  with  which  the  new 
formed  angel  must  look  up  to  his  God,  is  the  same  as  that 
by  which  he  is  adapted  to  the  blind  and  unvarying  move- 
ments of  nature.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  as  these  two 
great  spheres  of  persons  and  of  things  are  so  distinct,  that 
our  nature  should  not  be  equally  preconformed  to  each. 

If  the  spheres  of  faith  and  of  philosophy  be  thus  dis- 
tinct, it  will  be  obvious  that  they  can  come  into  conflict  only 
at  a  single  point.  A  personal  being  may  make  assertions 
about  facts  that  lie  within  the  domain  of  philosophy,  and 
these  assertions  may  seem  to  conflict,  and  may  conflict, 
with  evidence  respecting  those  same  facts  derived  from 
philosophy.  But  in  such  a  case  man  is  not  left  to  the 
alternative  of  a  blind  faith  or  a  presumptuous  philosophy. 
His  reason  is  to  decide.  By  this  he  is  to  ascertain,  ori 
the  one  side,  that  a  personal  being  has  spoken,  what  he 
has  said,  what  means  he  had  of  knowing  the  truth,  and 
what  confidence  is  to  be  placed  in  his  character.  On  the 
other  side,  he  is  to  inquire  whether  he  knows  all  the  facts 
and  their  relations,  and  is  sure  of  his  inferences.  If,  after 
this,  there  shall  seem  to  be  a  conflict,  or  a  contradiction, 
reason  must  strike  the  balance,  and  say  whether,  under  the 
circumstances,  it  is  more  rational  to  put  confidence  in  a 


8  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

personal  being,  or  to  believe  in  facts  and  deductions  for 
whicli  we  have  another  species  of  evidence.  Reason  re- 
cognizes both  these  grounds  of  belief ;  and  she,  and  she 
only,  can  decide  in  cases  of  apparent  conflict  between 
them. 

Having  thus  considered  the  relations  of  faith  and  phil- 
osophy, let  us  now  look  at  those  of  faith  and  reason. 

It  is  strange  with  what  pertinacity  the  opponents  of 
Christianity  have  insisted  that  there  is,  and  must  be,  a 
conflict  between  these  ;  and  how  readily  many  advocates 
of  Christianity  have  assented  to  this  view.  So  far  has  this 
been  carried,  that  a  recent  and  much-lauded  article  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review  is  entitled,  "  Reason  and  Faith  ;  their 
claims  and  conflicts^  But  such  conflict  is  by  no  means  to 
be  admitted.  There  is  just  as  much  opposition  between 
.reason  and  faith,  as  there  is  between  reason  and  philos- 
ophy, and  no  more. 

If  we  regard  reason  as  giving  us  only  intuitive  and 
necessary  truths,  then  it  will  act  equally  in  the  domain  of 
philosophy  and  of  faith,  and  there  can  be  no  opposition 
between  either  of  them  ;  unless,  indeed,  a  personal  being 
should  assert  an  absurdity.  But  if,  as  is  more  common, 
we  regard  reason  as  comprising  what  is  rational  in  man, — 
those  high  attributes  by  which  he  is  distinguished  from 
the  brutes,  and  which  must  enter  into,  and  preside  over, 
every  legitimate  act  and  process  of  the  mind, — then,  the 
sphere  of  faith  and  philosophy  being  different,  there  can  be 
no  conflict  between  reason  as  employed  in  the  sphere  of 
philosophy,  and  as  employed  in  the  sphere  of  faith.  Rea- 
son presides  over  both  spheres,  and  can  therefore  be  in 
conflict  with  neither.  The  only  possible  question  is,  wheth- 
er we  may,  in  any  case,  just  as  rationally  reach  conclu- 
sions and  grounds  of  action  by  that  process  which  we  calJ 


FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  9 

faith,  as  we  can  by  that  which  we  call  philosophy.  But  on 
this  point  there  can  be  no  question.  We  act  as  necessarily 
and  as  legitimately  with  reference  to  personal  beings  by 
faith,  as  we  do  in  reference  to  things  by  a  belief  in  the 
uniformity  of  nature.  It  is  just  as  rational  for  a  man  to 
have  confidence  in  the  character  and  consequently  in  the 
word  of  a  personal  being,  as  it  is  for  him  to  believe  in  the 
facts  of  observation  or  experience  or  in  those  forms  and 
systems  of  knowledge  deduced  from  these  which  are  called 
philosophy.  It  may^  perhaps,  be  found  to  be  quite  as  rea- 
sonable to  believe  a  fact  because  it  is  asserted  by  God, 
as  to  believe  one  because  it  is  inferred  by  ourselves,  or 
even  as  to  believe  a  fact  made  known  to  us  by  those  senses 
which  God  has  given  us. 

Is  there  not  then  such  a  thing  as  faith  that  is  not  in  ac- 
accordance  with  reason  ?  Certainly,  just  as  there  are  infer- 
ences and  philosophies  that  are  not  in  accordance  with 
reason,  and  perhaps  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  whether 
there  has  been  more  folly  and  absurdity  under  the  name 
of  faith  or  of  philosophy.  My  reason  tells  me  that  I  may 
confide  in  the  facts  given  me  by  my  senses,  that  I  may 
classify  these,  and  build  up  a  system  of  knowledge  which 
we  call  philosophy.  Under  this  impression,  men  have 
built  up  systems  of  philosophy  which  we  can  now  see  were 
exceedingly  irrational  and  foolish,  but  this  does  not  show 
that  there  is  any  conflict  between  reason  and  philosophy ; 
but  only  that  reason  is  not  infallible  in  this  department. 
My  reason  also,  all  that  is  rational  within  me,  tells  me  that 
I  may,  and  ought,  sometimes  to  confide  in  personal  beings, 
and  that  such  confidence  is  a  rational  and  sufiicient  ground 
of  knowledge  and  of  action.  We  may,  indeed,  here  repose 
confidence  where  we  ought  not,  and  receive  irrational  dog- 
mas,  and  submit  to  useless  or  ridiculous  rites ;  but  this 


lO  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

would  only  show  that  reason  is  not  infallible  in  this  de- 
partment. 

So  far  then  from  separating  faith  from  reason  and 
bringing  them  into  possible  and  actual  conflict,  we  would 
say  that  the  sphere  of  faith  is  one  of  the  two  great  spheres 
over  which  reason  presides,  and  that  faith  itself  is  one  of 
the  great  and  indispensable  methods  in  which  reason  is 
manifested.  It  is  a  libel  upon  religion  to  say  that  it  re- 
quires a  blind  faith,  or  any  other  than  a  rational  faith,  or 
that  it  requires  us  to  believe  any  thing  which  is  not  more 
rational  to  believe  than  it  would  be  to  disbelieve  it.  There 
is  no  tendency  in  faith  to  a  blind  belief.  It  does  not  say, 
and  has  no  tendency  to  say,  "  I  believe  because  it  is  im- 
possible." That  is  mere  Quixotism  and  folly.  Faith  may, 
indeed,  take  hold  of  the  hand  of  a  father,  and  be  willing 
to  step  where  it  does  not  see  ;  but  then  she  is  willing  thus 
to  step,  only  because  she  has  a  rational  ground  for  believ- 
ing that  her  father  will  lead  her  right.  Christianity  dis- 
cards and  repudiates  altogether,  any  faith  that  can  come 
into  conflict  with  reason. 

This  view  of  faith  gives  it  a  definite  sphere,  it  shows 
distinctly  its  relations  both  to  philosophy  and  to  reason, 
and  removes  from  it  all  that  mysterious  or  mystical  appear- 
ance which  has  sometimes  been  thrown  around  religious 
faith.  As  an  exercise  of  the  mind  it  is,  generically,  no  way 
different  from  that  to  which  we  are  constantly  accustomed. 
When  a  child  follows  implicitly  the  directions  of  its  father, 
when  a  client  puts  his  case  into  the  hands  of  an  advocate, 
there  is  an  element  in  the  act  that  is  different  from  simple 
belief,  it  is  an  element  that  puts  honor  upon  the  father  and 
the  advocate.  This  is  faith.  Faith,  then,  generically,  is 
confidence  in  a  personal  being.  Specifically,  religious 
faith  is  confidence  in  God,  in  every  aspect  and  office  in 
which  he  reveals  himself     As  that  love  of  which  God  is 


FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  jj 

the  object,  is  religious  love,  so  that  confidence  in  Him  as  a 
Father,  a  Moral  Governor,  a  Redeemer,  a  Sanctifier,  in  all 
the  modes  of  his  manifestation,  by  which  we  believe  what- 
ever he  says  because  he  says  it,  and  commit  ourselves  and 
all  our  interests  cheerfully  and  entirely  into  his  hands,  is 
religious  faith.  Surely  there  is  in  this,  nothing  irrational, 
or  hard  to  be  understood. 

The  distinctive  element  of  faith,  then,  is  not  belief,  but 
it  is  confidence  from  that  perception  and  appreciation  of 
moral  character  upon  which  the  belief  is  based.  Involved 
in  this  there  must  always  be  a  belief  of  the  trustworthiness 
of  the  object  of  our  faith.  Hence,  if  faith  were  perfect,  it 
would  involve,  not  merely  a  belief  in  testimony,  but  an 
obedience  like  that  of  Abraham.  In  his  case  there  was 
simply  a  command,  and  strictly  no  testimony  ;  yet  the  faith 
was  perfect. 

It  is  this  complex  nature  of  faith  that  has  caused  the 
confusion  respecting  it.  It  does  imply  a  movement  of  both 
the  rational  and  the  emotive  nature.  In  this,  sometimes 
the  one,  and  sometimes  the  other  may  predominate,  but  it 
is  never  due  either  to  the  intellect  simply,  or  to  the  feel- 
ings simply.  When  outward  appearances,  as  in  the  case 
of  Abraham,  are  opposed  to  the  dictates  of  faith,  it  will  be 
an  affectionate  confidence.  When  there  is  no  such  oppos- 
ition, it  will  be  a  confiding  affection  in  which  the  confidence 
may  seem  to  be  entirely  absorbed  and  transfigured  into 
love.  The  belief  involved  in  faith,  is  based  on  those  very 
qualities  which  necessarily  call  forth  emotion  or  affection; 
and  hence,  in  this  act,  the  two  are  fused  and  inseparably 
blended.  Hence  too  the  moral  element  in  faith,  which  is 
not  necessarily  in  mere  belief,  and  hence  its  power  as  a 
principle  of  action.  Nor  is  there  any  thing  strange  or 
anomalous  in  this.  Pity  is  a  complex  act,  consisting  of 
sympathy  for  distress  and  a  desire  to  relieve  it.     These 


12  FAITH,    PHILOSOPHY   AND   REASON. 

may  exist  in  different  proportions,  but  if  either  be  wanting 
there  is  no  pity ;  and  yet  no  one  finds  any  difficulty  in 
understanding  what  pity  is. 

Having  thus  considered  the  nature  of  faith,  we  now 
proceed  to  its  offices. 

Of  faith  in  general,  the  great  office  is  to  underlie  all  the 
social  intercourse  of  personal  beings.  It  is  to  this  higher 
and  distinct  sphere  of  personal  intercourse,  what  a  belief  in 
the  uniformity  of  nature  is  in  our  intercourse  with  nature. 
Without  confidence  society  is  impossible.  It  is  the  great 
element  and  condition  of  social  prosperity  and  happiness. 
Universally  it  will  be  found  that  all  the  ends  of  society  are 
reached,  in  proportion  as  there  is  mutual  confidence  between 
husbands  and  v/ives,  parents  and  children,  rulers  and  sub- 
jects, buyers  and  sellers,  friends  and  neighbors.  Remove 
but  the  single  element  of  distrust,  and  who  does  not  see 
that  the  great  cause  of  human  wretchedness  would  be  taken 
away.  Let  but  the  one  element  of  a  general  and  perfect 
confidence  be  poured  into  the  now  heaving  mass  of  human 
society,  and  its  agitations  would  subside,  and  it  would  be 
at  once  aggregated  and  crystalized  into  its  most  perfect 
forms.  In  connection  with  this,  every  form  of  human  at- 
tachment would  strike  deep  root,  every  mutual  affinity 
would  have  free  play,  and  every  capacity  of  man  for  happi- 
ness from  intercourse  with  his  fellow-men  would  be  filled. 

Of  the  more  specific  offices  of  religious  faith  we  will 
first  consider  that,  so  much  insisted  on  in  the  Scriptures, 
by  which  it  accepts  a  gratuitous  salvation.  From  the  na- 
ture of  faiih  as  now  stated,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  its  relation 
to  such  a  salvation  is  a  necessary  and  not  an  arbitrary  one. 
To  be  accepted,  a  gift  must  first  be  appreciated,  and  desired 
as  a  gift.  This,  in  the  case  of  salvation  from  sin,  involves 
repentance.     And  then  there  must  be  full  confidence  in 


FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  1 3 

the  sincerity  of  him  who  offers  the  gift.  This  is  faith,  and, 
the  gift  being  desired,  there  can  be  a  completion  of  the 
confidence  only  in  its  acceptance.  In  this  view  of  it,  faith 
is  not  that  in  consequence  of  which  we  receive  the  salva- 
tion as  if  the  faith  existed  first  and  accepted  the  salvation 
afterwards,  but  faith  is  the  very  act  of  confidence  by  which 
the  salvation  is  accepted.  It  is  a  confidence  which  can  be- 
come complete  only  as  it  accepts  the  offer,  because  it  is  only 
as  He  makes  the  offer  that  the  Saviour  can  become  the  ob- 
ject of  our  confidence.  Faith  then,  in  its  relation  to  salva- 
tion, is  that  confidence  by  which  we  accept  it  as  a  free  gift 
from  the  Saviour,  and  is  the  only  possible  way  in  which  this 
gift  of  God  could  be  appropriated.  How  simple  !  how  ra- 
tional !  how  strange  it  should  fail  to  be  understood  ! 

A  second  office  of  religious  faith,  as  stated  in  the 
Scriptures,  is  to  unite  man  to  God,  and  in  so  doing,  to 
give  him  power  with  God.  To  this,  faith,  as  now  ex- 
plained, is  perfectly  adapted.  As  our  relations  to  God  are 
so  numerous  and  intimate,  and  as  confidence  in  him  can 
be  based  only  on  a  perception  of  those  perfect  attributes 
which  would  call  out  the  highest  affection,  it  must  be  an 
affectionate  confidence.  But  it  is  only  by  an  affectionate 
confidence  that  such  a  being  as  man  can  be  united  to  God, 
or,  indeed,  that  any  one  moral  being  can  be  united  to 
another.  Let  this  exist,  and  everything  in  the  relations  of 
the  two  beings  must  be  pleasant,  the  relation  itself  will  be 
the  ground  of  the  highest  satisfaction  which  our  nature  can 
know,  and  will  lie  at  the  foundation  of  a  higher  and  nobler 
idea  of  being  and  of  order  than  any  other.  What  is  the 
idea  of  myriads  of  orbs  circling  in  harmony  together,  com- 
pared with  that  of  myriads  of  intelligent  and  moral  beings 
united  to  God  and  to  each  other  in  a  mutual  and  affection- 
ate confidence  ?  Here  we  find  the  true  end  of  this  universe 
' — an  order  of  which  all  other  order  is  but  the  symbol. 


14  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

And  while  faith  thus  unites  us  to  God,  it  is  natural  and 
rational  to  suppose  that  it  should  have  the  great  power 
ascribed  to  it  in  the  Scriptures.  It  is  one  of  the  strongest 
impulses  and  principles  of  a  rightly  constituted  nature 
never  to  disappoint  any  confidence  that  is  justly  reposed 
in  it.  This  seems  to  be  even  the  instinct  of  a  generous 
nature  without  reference  to  principle.  Who  is  there  that 
would  not  protect  a  dove  that  should  come  and  nestle  in 
his  bosoin  ?  An  appeal  by  innocence,  by  helplessness,  by 
distress,  in  which  the  individual  abandons  himself  with 
entire  confidence  to  7is,  is  one  of  the  strongest  that  can  be 
made  to  our  nature,  and  will  often  be  met  by  the  greatest 
sacrifices,  not  only  by  individuals,  but  by  whole  nations. 
Let  Kossuth  escape  and  come  to  this  country,  and  confide 
himself  to  our  protection,  and  let  him  be  pursued  by  the 
combined  power  of  Russia  and  of  Austria,  yea  by  the 
power  of  the  world,  and  the  nation  would  rise  as  one  man, 
would  form  a  living  wall  around  him,  and  he  would  be 
taken  only  as  his  pursuers  should  pass  over  the  dead 
bodies  of  those  who  would  stand  in  his  defence.  Shall 
Pien  do  thus,  and  shall  not  God  defend  those  who  come  to 
put  their  trust  under  the  shadow  of  his  wings  ?  Shall  any 
innocent  creature  of  God  that  is  in  distress  come  to  him, 
and  confide  in  him,  and  shall  not  the  resources  of  Omnipo- 
tence be  held  ready  for  his  deliverance  ?  Shall  any  guilty 
creature  of  God,  however  debased  and  wretched,  yea, 
though  he  were  dyed  and  steeped  in  sin,  come  to  him  with 
a  confidence  authorized  by  the  death  of  Christ,  and  cast  him- 
self upon  him  for  pardon  and  adoption,  and  not  be  received 
even  as  the  prodigal  son  ?  Shall  any  servant  of  God,  in 
this  world  of  conflict,  be  hardly  beset,  and,  feeling  that  his 
own  strength  is  weakness,  look  up  to  God  with  an  eye  of 
filial  confidence,  and  shall  he  not  send  him  succor  t  Shall 
his  servants  say,  in  the  very  face  of  the  flames,  "  Our  God 


FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  1 5 

whom  we  serve  is  able  to  deliver  us  from  the  burning  fiery 
furnace,  and  he  will  deliver  us,  O  king,"  and  shall  he  not 
deliver  them  ?  What  are  the  laws  of  nature  in  a  case  like 
this  ?  They  are  but  as  a  technicality  compared  with  a 
mighty  principle.  One  glance  of  a  confiding  eye  is 
mightier  than  all  the  laws  of  nature.  Heaven  and  earth 
may  pass  away,  but  not  a  hair  of  him  who  puts  confidence 
in  God  shall  "fall  to  the  earth."  Sooner,  far  sooner, 
would  God  sweep  this  material  framework,  with  all  its  laws, 
into  utter  annihiliation,  than  he  would  disappoint  the 
authorized  confidence  of  the  most  inconsiderable  of  his 
creatures.  How  different  is  this  universe  when  thus 
viewed  by  the  light  of  faith  in  its  relation  to  a  controlling 
personal  being,  a  Father,  and  a  Friend  ;  and  when  viewed 
in  the  light  of  philosophy,  as  mere  nature — as  an  unvary- 
ing, undiscriminating,  crushing  uniformity  ! 

The  third  office  of  religious  faith  is  to  be  a  principle 
of  action.  And  if  there  be  any  one  thing  which  a  young 
man  about  to  enter  upon  life  ought  to  consider  thoroughly, 
it  is  his  principles  of  action.  Upon  these  his  own  charac- 
ter, and  that  of  his  enterprises,  will  depend.  As  you,  my 
friends,  adopt,  from  this  time,  right  principles  of  action, 
so,  and  so  only,  will  you  promote  your  true  usefulness, 
and  permament  good. 

But  certain  it  is,  referring  to  the  distinction  already 
made,  that  the  highest  principles  of  action  cannot  be  found 
in  the  sphere  of  things.  The  study  of  these  may  train  the 
intellect,  and  make  men  mere  philosophers  ;  they  may 
awaken  the  desire  to  possess  them  as  property  and  make 
men  misers  ;  they  may  call  forth  the  emotions  of  beauty 
and  sublimity  ;  and  that  is  all.  There  is  here  no  confi- 
dence, no  affection,  no  sympathy.  But  bring  man,  now,  into 
intercourse  with  free,  personal  and  moral  beings,  and  every 
high  faculty  of  his  nature  will  come  into  play.     The  Intel- 


1 6  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

lect,  and  the  heart  and  the  moral  nature  will  act  together 
and  strengthen  each  other.  And  as  the  basis  of  all  such 
intercourse  must  be  faith,  so  the  basis  of  all  intercourse 
with  God  must  be  religious  faith. 

As  a  principal  of  action,  religious  faith  is  contrasted 
with  those  adopted  by  the  heroes  of  this  world,  because  it 
tends  to  form  a  complete  character.  Recognizing  an 
omnipresent  and  omniscient  God,  it  acts  equally  at  all 
times,  and  bears  as  well  upon  the  minute,  as  upon  the 
greater  actions  of  life.  Minute  actions  and  details  must 
make  up  the  whole  life  of  most  men,  and  the  greater 
part  of  the  life  of  all  men  ;  and  what  we  need  above 
all  things,  is  a  principle  of  action  that  shall  embrace 
all  acts  equally,  as  the  law  of  gravitation  embraces  the 
atom  and  the  planet,  and  that  may  dignify  the  smallest 
act  by  the  principle  from  which  it  proceeds.  Such  a 
principle  is  religious  faith  ;  and  nothing  but  this  can  carry 
the  life-blood  of  principle  into  those  minuter  portions  of 
human  conduct  on  which  our  happiness  here  chiefly 
depends.  This  would  attune  the  chords  of  domestic  life 
and  make  them  discourse  sweet  music;  it  would  substi- 
tute the  freshness  of  sincerity,  and  the  flush  of  benevolence, 
for  the  paint  and  frigidity  of  a  false  and  conventional 
politeness.  Carrying  out  such  a  principle,  an  individual 
may  be  truly  great,  however  humble  his  sphere  ;  and  this 
greatness  will  bear  the  test,  and  grow  as  it  is  examined  ; 
while  that  which  takes  human  opinion  as  its  standard  and 
reward,  dwindles  and  becomes  contemptible  the  more  it  is 
known.  This  latter  cultivates  the  art  of  concealment ;  it 
is  great,  and  generous,  and  kind,  in  public ;  and  mean, 
and  selfish,  and  unamiable,  at  home.  Long  enough  has 
the  world  been  filled  with  pretences,  and  shows,  and  fair 
seemings,  and  whited  sepulchres  ;  but  the  remedy  for 
these  is  to  be  found,  not  in  any  ridicule  or  denunciation 


KAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  1/ 

of  hypocrisy,  nor  in  any  splenetic  or  contemptuous  decrial 
of  *'  shams,"  but  only  in  the  cultivation  of  a  true  religious 
fiiith. 

This  will  be  the  more  obvious  if  we  notice  a  second, 
and  grand  peculiarity  of  religious  faith,  which  is  that  it 
can  work  only  in  harmony  with  the  moral  nature.  No 
man  can  expect  to  be  aided  or  sustained  by  God,  when  he 
is  doing  any  thing  which  he  is  conscious  is  not  well  pleas- 
ing to  him.  Confidence  in  God  must  imply  a  constant 
endeavor  to  know  his  will,  and  must,  hence,  quicken  the 
conscience,  and,  as  the  Scriptures  express  it,  purify  the 
heart.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the  essential  connection 
between  faith  and  love,  and  it  is  by  its  intimate  alliance 
with  conscience  on  the  one  hand,  and  love  on  the  other,  that 
religious  faith  is  capable  of  becoming  a  principle  of  action 
so  ennobling  and  so  mighty.  It  is  rational  and  intelligent 
as  recognizing,  sometimes  the  plans  of  God,  and  always 
the  grounds  of  trust  in  Him  ;  it  quickens  the  conscience 
as  necessarily  adopting  the  law  of  God  for  its  rule  of  action  ; 
and  it  gives  full  play  to  the  affections,  by  drawing  its  very 
life  from  the  holy  and  infinitely  amiable  character  of  God. 
Thus  he  who  is  actuated  by  this  principle  must  have  the 
strength  that  comes  from  the  consciousness  of  acting 
rationally  ;  from  peace  with  God  ;  and  peace  of  conscience, 
Thus  has  it  every  element  that  can  be  needed  to  sustain 
great  and  heroic  action.  Let  a  man  feel  that  he  is  in 
sympathy  with  God  in  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  that  God 
approves  the  means  he  adopts,  and  let  him  have  a  filial 
confidence  in  him,  and  what  deed  of  a  true  heroism  is 
there,  whether  of  action  or  of  suffering,  which  he  may  not 
perform  ?  Thus  moved  and  sustained,  is  it  any  wonder 
that  they  of  old  "  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteous- 
ness, obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched   the   violence   of  fire,  escape  the  edge  of  the 


1 8  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant 
in  fight,  turned  to  flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens"?  And 
w^hat  this  principle  was  of  old,  it  is  now.  The  same  God 
is  above  us,  and  his  response  to  any  confidence  reposed 
in  Him  will  not  be  less  full.  This  only  can  support  the 
martyr,  the  moral  hero,  the  hero  of  meekness,  and  right- 
eousness, and  love  unconquerable.  This  only  can  lead 
men  to  originate  and  sustain  those  great  moral  enterprises, 
on  the  success  of  which  the  welfare  and  progress  of  the 
world  must  ultimately  turn.  It  cannot  be  that  man  should 
set  himself  fully  against  the  wickedness  of  his  own  heart, 
and  the  wickedness  of  the  world  around  him,  and  resist 
the  allurements  of  temptation,  and  defy  the  powers  of 
nature  wielded  by  persecution,  and  endure  to  the  end, 
and  overcome  except  as  "  seeing  him  who  is  invisible." 
"  This  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  world  even  our 
faith."  Only  this  can  enable  the  true  missionary  to  for- 
sake country  and  friends,  and  devote  his  life,  in  a  heathen 
land,  to  the  good  of  those  whom  he  knows  but  as 
redeemed  by  the  blood  of  Christ ;  only  this  can  sustain  him 
in  attacking  forms  of  sin  that  seem  as  ancient  and  firm  as 
the  hills  ;  this  alone  can  enable  him  to  labor  on  till  death, 
and  die  in  hope,  while  yet  the  darkness  of  midnight  lies 
upon  the  mountains.  Such  a  faith  has  nothing  to  do  with 
nature.  She  comes  down  from  above  into  the  sphere  of 
nature,  she  contemplates  objects  of  which  nature  knows 
nothing,  and  when  she  acts  rationally  with  reference  to 
these  objects — to  a  kingdom  and  laws  that  are  above 
nature — nature  says  she  is  mad.  She  is  not  mad  ;  the 
might  of  the  universe  is  with  her  ;  God  is  with  her;  eter- 
nity shall  vindicate  her.  This,  not  money,  not  machinery, 
or  confidence  in  them,  but  this  it  is  that  the  church  needs. 
Let  her  come  directly  to  God  in  the  strength  of  a  perfect 
weakness,  in  the  power  of  a  felt  helplessness  and  a  child- 


FAITH,    PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  IQ 

like  confidence,  and  then,  either  she  has  no  strength,  and 
has  no  right  to  be,  or  she  has  a  strength  that  is  infinite. 
Then,  and  thus,  will  she  stretch  out  the  rod  over  the  seas 
of  diflficulty  that  lie  before  her,  and  the  waters  shall  divide, 
and  she  shall  pass  through,  and  sing  the  song  of  deliver- 
ance. 

From  the  view  of  faith  now  taken,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  every  system  of  negations,  and  distrust,  and  sceptic- 
ism, must  tend  to  lower  the  tone  of  human  action  and 
enjoyment,  and  must  be  uncongenial  to  our  nature.  Such 
systems  may  be  useful  in  pulling  down  error,  but  have  no 
constructive  power.  Their  effect  must  be  like  that  of 
withdrawing  the  vital  element  from  the  air  ;  and  not  more 
certainly  will  languor  and  feebleness  creep  over  the  phy- 
sical system  in  one  case,  than  over  the  spiritual  in  the 
other.  There  can  be  no  robust  and  healthy  life,  either 
social  or  spiritual,  without  a  strong  faith. 

Let  me  then  first  counsel  you,  my  friends,  to  place  a 
generous  confidence  in  your  fellow-men.  Not  that  you 
should  be  weak,  or  credulous,  but,  if  you  must  err  at  all, 
let  it  be  on  the  side  of  confidence.  For  your  own  sakes 
repress  the  first  risings  of  a  suspicious  and  distrustful  tem- 
per. It  will  unstring  the  nerves  of  your  energy,  and  cor- 
rode your  very  heart.  Far  from  you  be  that  form  of  con- 
ceit which  attributes  to  itself  shrewdness  and  wisdom  by 
always  suspecting  evil.  Far  sooner  would  I  make  it  a 
part  of  my  philosophy  and  plan,  to  be  imposed  upon  and 
cheated,  up  to  a  certain  point.  Let  not  even  intercourse 
with  the  world,  and  the  caution  of  age,  congeal  the  spring 
of  your  confidence  and  sympathy.  So  doing,  you  may  find 
much  that  you  would  wish  otherwise,  some  you  may  find 
that  will  be  as  a  briar,  and  sharper  than  a  thorn  hedge, 
brethren  that  will  supplant,  and  neighbors  that  will  walk 
in  slanders  ;  but  you  will  also  find  answering  confidence. 


20  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

repose  for  the  soul,  green  spots,  and  fountains  in  the  des 
ert. 

Let  me  also  warn  you  especially  against  all  those  pan- 
theistic views,  virtually  atheistic,  which  are  setting  in  upon 
us  in  these  days  in  connection  with  certain  forms  of  a  tran- 
scendental philosophy.  The  great  result,  if  not  the  object 
of  all  such  schemes,  is  to  obscure  and  exclude  the  idea  of 
personality  in  God  ;  and  hence,  of  accountability  in  man. 
It  is  around  this  banner,  more  than  any  other,  that  the 
migratory  hordes  of  infidelity  are  gathering,  and  uniting 
against  the  religion  of  the  Bible.  These  schemes  assume 
the  garb  of  a  high  philosophy  ;  they  put  on  the  sheep's 
clothing  of  a  religious  phraseology.  In  their  outward  as- 
pect, they  are  contemplative,  reverent,  and  especially  phi- 
lanthropic. Their  advocates  believe  in  God — but  then  all 
things  are  God,  and  in  the  working  of  all  things  hitherto, 
nothing  higher  than  man  has  been  produced.  They  be- 
lieve in  inspiration — but  then  all  good  books  are  inspired. 
They  believe  in  Jesus  Christ — and  so  they  do  in  Confu- 
cius, and  Socrates,  and  Mohammed,  and  Luther,  and  in 
all  earnest  and  heroic  men.  They  believe  in  progress — but 
in  a  progress  which  neither  springs  from  nor  leads  to, 
moral  order.  They  make  the  ideas  of  guilt  and  retribution 
a  bugbear,  redemption  an  absurdity,  repentance  unneces- 
sary, and  faith  impossible.  Making  such  pretensions, 
to  philosophy  and  giving  such  license  to  passio.i,  these 
schemes  have  great  attractions,  and  form  the  chief  specu- 
lative quicksands  which  the  currents  of  this  age  have  drifted 
up,  and  on  which  the  young  are  in  danger  of  being  wrecked. 
They  merge  personality  into  laws,  the  operations  of  a  wise 
agent  into  necessary  uniformities.  They  make  the  order 
and  stability  of  God's  works  testify,  not  to  his  wisdom  and 
immutability,  but  to  his  non-existence.  They  change  the 
truth  which  the  creatures  thus  tell,  into  a  lie,  and  say,  "  No 


FAITH,    PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON.  21 

God."  Thus  are  the  heavens  disrobed  of  their  glory,  and 
infinite  space  becomes  a  blank,  and  faith  finds  no  object, 
and  the  tendrils  of  affection  find  no  oak,  and  human  life  is 
without  a  providence,  and  conscience  is  a  lie,  and  death  is  an 
eternal  sleep.  To  all  such  schemes,  and  their  abettors,  how 
appropriate  and  overwhelming  are  the  reproof  and  the  ar- 
gument framed  expressly  for  them  long  ago  :  "  Understand, 
ye  brutish  among  the  people  ;  and  ye  fools,  when  will  ye 
be  wise  ?  He  that  planted  the  ear,  shall  he  not  hear  }  He 
that  formed  the  eye,  shall  he  not  see  ?  He  that  chastiseth 
the  heathen,  shall  he  not  correct  ?  He  that  teacheth  man 
knowledge,  shall  not  he  know  ? " 

And  now,  my  Friends,  what  can  I  wish  better  for  you 
personally,  or  for  the  world  in  your  relations  to  it,  than  that 
you  should  take  for  your  actuating  and  sustaining  principle 
Faith  in  God.  Without  this,  you  will  lack  the  highest  ele- 
ment of  happiness,  and  the  only  adequate  ground  of  sup- 
port ;  life  will  be  without  dignity,  and  death  without  hope. 
Only  by  faith  can  you  run  that  race  which  is  set  before  you, 
as  before  those  of  old.  In  this  world  your  courses  may  be 
different ;  you  will  choose  different  professions,  and  diverge 
widely  in  your  lines  of  life.  To  some  of  you,  the  race  here 
may  be  brief  But  whatever  this  may  be,  and  whether  longer 
or  shorter,  before  you  all  there  is  set  the  same  race  under 
the  moral  government  of  God  ;  to  you  all  is  held  out  the 
same  prize.  Why  should  you  not  run  this  race?  Never 
was  there  a  time,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  when  moral 
heroes  were  more  needed.  The  world  waits  for  such.  The 
providence  of  God  has  commanded  science  to  labor  and 
prepare  the  way  for  such.  For  them  she  is  laying  her  iron 
tracks,  and  stretching  her  wires,  and  bridging  the  oceans. 
But  where  are  they  ?  W^ho  shall  breathe  into  our  civil  and 
political  relations  the  breath  of  a  higher  life  .'*    Who  shall 


22  FAITH,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   REASON. 

couch  the  eyes  of  a  paganized  science,  and  of  a  pantheistic 
philosophy,  that  they  may  see  God  ?  Who  shall  consecrate, 
to  the  glory  of  God,  the  triumphs  of  science?  Who  shall 
bear  the  Hfe-boat  to  the  stranded  and  perishing  nations  ? 
Who  should  do  these  things,  if  not  you — not  in  your  rela- 
tions to  time  only,  but  to  eternity,  and  to  the  universe  of 
God? 

And  as  seen  in  the  light  of  faith,  what  a  race  !  what 
an  arena  !  what  a  prize  ! 

Faith  places  us  under  the  inspection  and  care  of  the 
eternal  and  omnipresent  God,  and  accepts  of  him  as  a 
Father,  a  Redeemer,  a  Sanctifier,  and  Portion.  She  en- 
thrones Him  above  all  laws,  and  to  that  utterance  which 
she  hears  coming  as  the  voice  of  many  waters  from  around 
the  throne,  saying.  The  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth, 
she  says,  Amen.  She  introduces  us  to  a  spiritual  family 
of  our  own  race,  and  of  superior  orders  of  beings,  before 
whose  numbers  and  capacities  the  imagination  falters. 
She  accepts  the  suggestions  of  analogy,  that  the  moral  and 
spiritual  universe  is  commensurate  with  that  physical  uni- 
verse which  night  reveals,  the  outskirts  of  which  no  tele- 
scope can  reach  ;  and  for  the  unfolding  and  sweep  of  a 
goverment  embracing  such  an  extent,  she  has  an  eternity. 
Such  is  the  scene  in  the  midst  of  which  this  race  is  to  be 
run.  What  is  the  prize  ?  It  is  likeness  to  God — sonship 
— the  inheritance  of  all  things  to  be  enjoyed  forever. 
That  such  a  prize  might  be  offered,  Christ  died  ;  that  it 
nay  be  striven  for,  as  the  one  thing  needful,  the  Holy 
Spirit  pleads.  Gird  yourselves,  then,  for  this  race  ;  run 
it  with  patience,  "looking  unto  Jesus."  The  world  may 
not  notice,  or  know  you  ;  for  it  knew  Him  not.  It  may 
persecute  you,  for  it  persecuted  Him  ;  but  in  the  Lord 
Jehovah  is  everlasting  strength.     He  will  be  with  you  ; 


FAITH,   PHILOSOHPY  AND   REASON.  23 

He  will  sustain  you ; — the  great  cloud  of  witnesses  will 
encompass  you  ;  they  will  wait  to  hail  you  with  acclama- 
tion as  you  shall  reach  the  goal,  and  receive  the  prize. 
That  goal  may  you  all  reach, — that  prize  may  you  all 
receive. 


II. 

STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY. 

Strength  and  beauty  are  in  his  sanctuary.— Psalm,  xcvi.  6. 

THERE  are  some  things,  both  in  nature  and  in  cha- 
racter, that  are  incompatible  with  each  other.  Such 
are  light  and  darkness,  moral  good  and  moral  evil,  hope 
and  despair.  One  can  exist  only  as  the  other  is  excluded. 
There  are  also  some  things,  as  drouth  and  sterility,  inte- 
grity and  firmness,  stealing  and  lying,  which  are  naturally 
associated,  and  which  we  expect  to  find  together.  Again ; 
there  are  qualities  which,  though  not  incompatible,  have 
yet  a  tendency  to  exclude  each  other,  and  which  are  sel- 
dom found  combined  in  any  high  degree.  Such  are  flex- 
ibility and  firmness,  weight  and  velocity,  energy  and  good 
temper,  imagination  and  judgment,  judgment  and  feeling, 
versatility  and  concentration,  patience  and  the  power  of 
rapid  combination  and  execution. 

That  the  highest  excellence,  either  mental  or  moral, 
can  be  reached  only  by  blending,  in  their  most  perfect 
proportions,  qualities  which  have  thus  a  tendency  to  ex- 
clude each  other,  may  be  easily  seen.  An  acute  intel- 
lect is  justly  reckoned  a  perfection,  but  there  is  in  it  a 
tendency  to  exclude  broad  and  comprehensive  views.  The 
power,  on  the  other  hand,  of  taking  the  most  broad  and 
comprehensive  views,  not  only  tends  to  exclude,  but  often 
leads  us  to  despise  that  acuteness  and  subtlety  of  analysis 

♦**  August  17,  1851. 


STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY.  2$ 

without  which  no  investigation  is  perfect.  But  these  are 
not  incompatible,  and  a  perfect  mind  would  be  able  to  act 
equally  well  in  either  direction.  As  a  perfect  eye  would 
possess  both  a  telescopic  and  a  microscopic  power — now 
ranging  through  the  universe,  and  now  adjusting  itself  to 
the  minutest  object — so  will  mind  be  perfect  only  as  it  can 
embrace  at  once  the  most  expanded  generalizations  and 
the  minutest  details.  In  a  perfect  mind,  great  logical 
power  v/ould  be  united  with  an  affluent  imagination  ;  but 
these  tend  to  exclude  each  other,  and  the  combination  is 
so  rare  that  he  in  whom  it  occurs  is  always  a  distinguished 
man.  In  moral  character,  economy  is  a  virtue ;  but  there 
is  in  it  a  tendency  to  the  exclusion  of  generosity,  which  is 
equally  a  virtue.  Boldness  is  not  easily  combined  with 
caution,  nor  sternness  with  a  melting  pity,  nor  zeal  with 
toleration.  How  seldom  is  a  Boanerges  at  the  same  time 
a  Barnabas ! 

Among  the  qualities  which  may  thus  exclude  each 
other,  but  which  are  yet  often  combined  both  in  nature 
and  in  character,  are  strength  and  beauty. 

In  nature,  how  beautiful  is  the  lily,  the  tulip,  the  rose^ 
the  honeysuckle !  How  beautiful  is  the  humming-bird, 
that  poises  itself  upon  its  almost  viewless  wings,  and  draws 
from  that  same  honeysuckle  its  sweet  food  !  How  beauti- 
ful is  the  oriole,  that  weaves  its  hanging  nest  in  the  tree 
above !  These  are  beautiful,  but  have  not  strength.  On 
the  other  hand,  how  strong  is  the  ox,  and  the  elephant,  and 
the  rhinoceros,  and  the  whale  !  These  have  strength,  but 
not  beauty.  The  hugeness  of  these  contributes  to  their 
strength,  but  would  seem  to  exclude  beauty  ;  while  the 
lightness  and  fragility  and  exquisite  structure  of  the  others 
constitute  their  beauty,  but  would  seem  to  exclude  strength. 
This  separation  of  strength  and  beauty  is  perhaps  more 
striking   when    they    are    contrasted.     Of  this   we    find 


26  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

instances  in  man  and  woman,  in  the  vine  and  the  oak,  in 
the  violet  sheltered  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock,  in  the  rainbow 
overhanging  the  cataract. 

But  these  qualities,  so  often  separated  and  contrasted  in 
nature,  are  also  often  combined.  They  are  so  in  the  tree. 
In  the  oak  strength  predominates.  Its  sturdy  and  gnarled 
trunk  is  the  emblem  of  strength;  and  yet  an  oak,  with  its 
full  coronal  of  glossy  leaves,  is  not  without  beauty.  In 
the  elm,  beauty  predominates.  With  its  light  form  com- 
pared with  its  height,  with  its  symmetrical  top  and  pendent 
branches,  it  stands  like  a  veiled  bride  in  her  beauty  ;  and 
yet  the  elm  impresses  us  with  the  idea  of  great  strength. 
The  green  valley  is  beautiful,  the  mountain  is  strong.  The 
mountain  covered  w^ith  verdure,  is  strength  clothed  with 
beauty.  In  a  horse,  to  pass  to  the  animal  kingdom,  these 
qualities  are  sometimes  strikingly  blended.  A  fine  horse 
is  among  the  most  powerful  of  animals  ;  but  when  he  is  left 
as  nature  made  him,  with  his  flowing  mane  and  tail,  and 
moves  with  the  apparent  consciousness  of  the  admiration  he 
excites,  he  is  among  the  most  beautiful.  But  it  is  in  the 
human  form  that  these  qualities  are  capable  of  their  high- 
est and  most  perfect  combination.  This  is  the  central 
idea  in  that  conception  of  the  Apollo  by  the  Greeks,  which 
must  always  remain  the  model  of  the  physical  man.  In 
that,  nothing  that  would  contribute  to  beauty  is  conceded 
to  strength,  and  everything  that  contributes  to  strength  is 
beautiful.  Let  the  body  of  man  combine  these  qualities  as 
it  may,  and  it  is  evidently  a  fit  dwelling  for  that  immortal 
spirit  which  is  made  in  the  image  of  God.  Such  a  body, 
filled  with  life,  the  features  radiant  with  intelligence  and 
love,  would  realize  the  highest  conception  that  man  can 
form  of  the  power  of  the  material,  both  to  veil,  and  to  re- 
veal the  spiritual. 

But   while  we   thus   find    this  combination    in   each 


STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY.  2/ 

separate  department  of  the  works  of  God,  it  is  per- 
haps most  striking  in  the  general  impression  which  those 
works  make  upon  man.  To  the  whole  structure  and 
movement  of  nature,  the  Greeks  gave  the  name  "  kosmos^^^ 
signifying  beauty  ;  but  looking  as  they  did  upon  the  earth 
as  fixed,  what  could  give  a  stronger  impression  of  strength 
in  the  form  of  stability  ?  But  if  we  look  upon  the  earth 
and  planetary  system  as  now  understood,  this  impression 
is  greatly  heightened.  While  we  have  the  same  round  of 
the  seasons,  the  same  "  pomp  of  day  "  and  glories  of  the 
night,  the  same  green  hills  and  sparkling  waters,  and  the 
same  bow  in  the  heavens  with  them,  nothing  can  be  more 
beautiful  than  the  conception  which  our  astronomy  gives 
us  of  the  uniform,  circular,  harmonious  movements  of  the 
shining  orbs  above  us,  and  nothing  can  give  us  a  higher 
conception  of  force,  or  strength  exerted,  than  their  amazing 
velocity. 

With  such  a  combination  of  these  elements  in  the 
works  of  God,  we  might  expect  that  they  would  be  com- 
bined in  any  physical  structure  which  he  should  direct 
men  to  build.  Accordingly  we  find  that  strength  and 
beauty  were  in  his  sanctuary.  Probably  these  were  more 
perfectly  combined  in  the  temple  of  Solomon,  than  in  any 
other  building  ever  erected.  This,  however,  was  not  for 
its  own  sake  ;  but,  under  a  typical  dispensation,  it  was 
doubtless  intended  to  symbolize  that  spiritual  strength  and 
beauty  which  were  to  belong  to  the  spiritual,  and  only  true 
temple  of  God. 

Let  us  then  look  at  strength  and  beauty  as  they  may 
exist  and  be  combined  in  the  character  of  man. 

The  idea  of  strength  is  simple,  admitting  of  no  analysis  ; 
but  strength  itself  may  be  manifested  in  either  of  two  ways. 
It  may  either  make  an  impression,  as  when  the  "  sun 
shineth  in  his  strength ; "    k   may    overcome    obstacles, 


28  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

break  down  barriers,  and  march  forward  to  the  attainment 
of  a  proposed  end;  or  it  may  stand  firm  as  the  hills,  when 
it  said  that  "  the  strength  of  the  hills  in  his  also  ; "  it  may 
bear  burdens,  it  may  resist  impressions  that  are  attempted 
to  be  made  upon  it. 

The  whole  strength  which  any  man  will  be  able  to 
exert  in  either  of  these  modes  will  depend  in  part  on  the 
faculties  he  may  possess,  and  in  part  on  the  energy  of  the 
will. 

The  faculties  will  vary  in  their  power  according  to  their 
original  constitution,  and  their  training.  Nothing  that  I 
see  would  lead  me  to  suppose  that  the  powers  of  all  men 
are  originally  alike.  In  this  respect,  as  well  as  in  others, 
God  gives  to  one  five  talents,  and  to  another  one.  But 
certain  original  powers  being  given,  their  subsequent 
strength  will  depend  on  their  training.  Here  the  great 
and  only  law  is,  that  the  legitimate  use  of  any  power  given 
by  God  strengthens  that  power.  This  is  true  of  the  body 
and  of  the  mind  ;  and  here  we  see  the  difference  between 
the  works  of  God  and  those  of  man.  The  works  of  man 
are  impaired  by  use  ;  those  of  God  are  improved.  For 
his  original  faculties  man  is  not  responsible,  but  only  for 
their  improvement. 

But  while  there  is  nothing  praiseworthy  in  the  posses- 
sion of  great  original  powers,  we  yet  contemplate  them 
with  admiration  and  delight,  as  we  do  a  great  tree,  a  great 
mountain,  a  great  river,  as  we  do  the  ocean.  We  watch 
with  delight  the  march  of  the  mind  of  Butler,  we  wonder 
at  the  apparent  intuitions  of  Newton,  and  at  the  spon- 
taneous creations  of  the  genius  of  Milton.  It  is  vain  to 
complain  of  the  admiration  of  men  for  talent  and  genius 
as  such.  That  admiration  is  legitimate.  It  may  be  over- 
whelmed and  merged  in  sorrow,  or  in  horror  from  their 
perversion ;    but   interest   will   concentrate   where   great 


STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY.  29 

power  is  manifested,  whether  it  be  physical  or  mental, 
whether  for  good  or  for  evil.  A  tornado,  prostrating  trees 
and  unroofing  houses,  a  volcano  pouring  forth  its  de- 
structive lava,  a  burning  city  even,  regarded  simply  as  a 
display  of  energy,  are  witnessed  with  pleasure.  But  this 
strength  of  the  faculties,  this  energy  with  which  they  are 
capable  of  working,  however  impelled,  is  entirely  different 
from  strength  of  character.  This  it  is  for  which  we  are 
responsible,  and  with  which  we  are  chiefly  concerned. 

But  man  can  have  strength  of  character  only  as  he  is 
capable  of  controlling  his  faculties  ;  of  choosing  a  rational 
end  ;  and,  in  its  pursuit,  of  holding  fast  to  his  integrity 
against  all  the  might  of  external  nature. 

Without  self-control  there  can  be  no  strength  of  cha- 
racter. Its  first  condition  is  the  subjection  of  the  impulses 
and  appetites  and  passions,  of  all  the  faculties,  to  the  con- 
trol of  the  personal  power — of  the  man  himself  "  He 
that  hath  no  rule  over  his  own  spirit  is  like  a  city  that  is 
broken  down  and  without  walls."  He  has  no  strength  to 
do,  or  to  resist. 

This  power  of  self-control  being  supposed,  strength  of 
character  may  be  manifested  by  a  continued  and  concen- 
trated energy  put  forth  for  the  attainment  of  a  given  end. 
This  strength,  however,  can  be  manifested  fully  only  as 
obstacles  are  met,  and  external  influences  are  resisted,  and 
the  power,  not  only  of  active  effort,  but  of  patient  endur- 
ance, is  tested  to  the  utmost. 

Of  such  strength  of  character,  both  in  active  effort  and 
in  patient  endurance,  Washington  is  a  good  example. 
During  the  long  years  of  the  Revolution  his  activity  was 
incessant,  and  that  too  in  the  midst  of  every  form  of  dis- 
couragement ;  yet  he  never  faltered.  Still,  strength  of 
character  was  not  as  severely  tested  in  him  as  it  might 
have  been.     There  vvcre  many  who  understood  his  object, 


30  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

and  sympathized  with  him.  The  eyes  of  a  nation  were 
upon  him.  It  never  came  to  be  a  question  whether 
he  should  relinquish  his  purpose  or  his  life.  But  if  we 
suppose  one  of  exquisite  sensibility,  the  most  keenly  alive 
to  suffering  and  to  every  form  of  reproach,  whose  object 
is  great  and  worthy  but  not  understood,  who  has  no  sym- 
pathy from  any  human  being,  who  is  either  opposed  or  de- 
serted by  all  mankind,  and  that  the  question  with  him  is 
whether  he  shall  abandon  his  purpose  or  go  to  a  death  of 
torture  and  of  ignominy,  we  shall  then  have  the  highest  con- 
ceivable test  of  strength  of  character.  Of  this  there  has 
been  but  one  perfect  example  in  our  nature  ;  but  of  this, 
man  is  capable.  He  was  once  in  harmony  with  nature 
and  with  all  external  agencies.  In  a  perfect  state  he 
would  be.  But  through  moral,  and  consequent  physical 
derangement,  all  expressed  sympath}^,  and  all  external 
agencies  may  be  against  him,  and  they  may  press  him  to 
the  last  extremity ;  but  still  he  may  have  such  a  sense 
of  duty,  and  such  faith  in  God,  as  to  enable  him  to  stand 
firm,  and  to  meet  certain  death.  The  spiritual  may  tri- 
umph over  the  sensual  and  the  material — the  immortal 
over  the  mortal.  If  man  is  not  the  master  of  nature,  as 
here  he  is  not,  he  is  not  yet  her  slave.  Against  his  own 
will,  no  power  on  earth  or  in  hell  can  make  him  so.  As 
spiritual  and  free,  he  is  not  properly  of  nature,  but  stands 
over  against  her.  He  is  no  part  of  a  linked  and  neces- 
sary series  of  cause  and  effect,  but  may  find  in  himself 
grounds  of  activity  that  will  enable  him  to  resist  every 
impulse  and  motive  that  can  be  brought  from  without. 
When  pushed  fully  up  to  that  line  where  degradation  and 
slavery  commence,  he  has  only  to  stand  firm,  and  God 
himself,  by  the  hand  of  death,  will  open  a  gate  by  which 
he  may  pass  out  unstained  and  unhumbled  into  perfect 
freedom.     Here  is  his  true  dignity,  here  is  strength.     So 


STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY.  3 1 

have  the  martyrs  stood.     What  is  the  strength  of  the  hills 
compared  with  this  ? 

Strength  thus  shown  in  resistance  to  impressions,  and 
in  standing  firm,  is  in  some  respects  less  striking,  and  at 
the  time  is  less  admired,  than  that  which  shows  itself  in 
active  effort,  producing  directly  great  results  ;  but  it  may  be 
doubted  whether,  in  a  world  like  this,  it  is  not  more  heroic, 
*9hd  ultimately  more  fruitful  of  good  and  more  honored.  To 
illustrate  this,  and  express  for  it  the  admiration  of  mankind, 
the  simile  of  all  ages  is  that  of  a  rock  standing  immovable 
in  the  midst  of  the  tumultuous  waters.  And  certainly  when 
we  think  of  the  sea  of  human  passion,  and  of  the  fury  into 
which  it  may  be  lashed,  and  of  the  strong  desire  for  appro- 
bation, and  of  the  fear  of  death,  and  of  the  natural  distrust 
of  men  in  their  own  opinions  when  they  stand  alone,  it  is 
one  of  the  sublimest  of  all  spectacles  to  see  a  man  stand 
firm  against  all  possible  allurements  and  threatenings, 
and,  reckless  of  consequences,  hold  fast  to  truth  and  to 
duty. 

Perhaps  it  should  be  mentioned  here,  that  energy  in 
active  effort,  and  the  power  of  patient  waiting  and  endur- 
ance, may  be  blended  in  different  proportions,  and  that 
they  have  some  tendency  to  exclude  each  other. 

Such  are  the  nature  and  sphere  of  strength  of  charac- 
ter.    What  are  those  of  beauty  .? 

As  the  idea  of  strength  is  simple,  so  is  that  of  beauty. 
The  emotion  can  be  known  only  by  being  felt,  and  only 
experience  can  teach  us  what  it  is  that  causes  the  emo- 
tion to  arise.  Doubtless  there  is  something  of  inherent 
beauty  in  all  the  forms  of  moral  goodness,  but  in  some  more 
than  in  others.  If  it  be  said,  as  it  may  be,  that  there  is 
beauty  in  justice,  yet  other  elements  preponderate,  and  it 
has  far  less  of  beauty  than  benevolence.  On  such  a  sub- 
ject, the  imperceptible  shading  of  one  thing  into  another 


32  STRENGTH   AND   :CEAUTY. 

will  not  permit  us  to  draw  sharp  lines  ;  but  it  may  be  said, 
in  general,  that  while  strength  of  character  depends  on 
the  will,  beauty  depends  on  the  affections.  The  affections 
are  beautiful  because  they  arc  spontaneous,  and  the  gene- 
ral truth  here  is  that  strength  is  to  be  found  in  the  voluntary 
action  of  the  mind,  and  beauty  in  its  spontaneous  action. 

We  are  all  conscious  of  these  two  modes  in  which  our 
faculties  work.  A  student  may  pursue  a  science  from  fear, 
or  from  the  love  of  praise  or  of  gain.  In  this  case  the 
faculties  will  be  impelled  as  by  a  force  from  behind,  and 
the  moment  that  is  withdrawn  they  will  cease  to  act — per- 
haps will  react  with  strong  aversion  towards  the  science 
itself.  Here  the  will  must  labor — it  must  row  against  the 
current.  Much  of  the  activity  in  this  world  is  of  this  kind, 
and  this  it  is  that  makes  it  labor  and  drudgery. 

But  again,  a  student  may  pursue  a  science  from  a  love 
of  the  science  itself.  In  this  case  there  is  an  affinity — 
an  attraction.  There  is  a  current  of  the  soul  setting  in 
that  direction,  which  the  will  may  indeed  resist,  may  per- 
haps wholly  arrest ;  but  it  will  require  an  effort  to  do  so. 
The  will  must  indeed  now  give  its  assent,  but  it  need  not 
row  the  boat.  The  movement  of  the  mind  is  spontane- 
ous, and  without  apparent  effort.     It  is  as  when 

"  The  river  windeth  at  it5  own  sweet  will," 

Such  activity  and  effort  are  not  esteemed  a  labor.  There 
will  be  in  it  a  deep  joy.  With  the  movement  of  the  facul- 
ties as  they  perform  it,  there  will  be  a  music  like  that  of 
the  spheres.  It  is  from  the  attempt  of  the  will  to  resist 
these  currents,  that  some  of  the  profoundest  struggles  of 
which  our  nature  is  capable  arise. 

Now  all  such  spontaneous  movements,  if  legitimate,  are 
beautiful.  They  are  beautiful  as  spontaneous.  Such  are 
all  the  emotions  of  taste  which  respond  to  the  beauties  and 


STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY.  33 

sublimities  of  nature  and  of  art.  Such  are  all  the  natural 
affections,  and  such  preeminently  are  all  those  high  moral 
affections  which  find  a  complacency  in  their  object  from  its 
own  intrinsic  character.  Thus  it  is  that  benevolence  is 
beautiful,  and  pity,  and  tenderness,  and  a  regard  for  the 
feelings  of  others  in  the  minutest  particulars ;  thus  sympa- 
thy is  beautiful,  and  love,  and  a  clinging  trust.  Let  these 
be  genuine,  spontaneous,  like  the  free  gushing  up  of  a 
fountain,  and  there  is  a  beauty  in  them  such  as  there  is  in 
no  verdure  or  sparkling  waters.  They  are  to  those  sterner 
qualities  which  give  strength,  what  the  leaves  and  blossoms 
are  to  the  tree,  making  it  beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  men,  and 
sending  up  a  fragrance  to  heaven. 

But  spontaneousness  is  not  the  only  element  of  beauty. 
If  the  beauty  be  a  moral  one,  as  it  must,  to  be  strictly  a 
beauty  of  character,  then  the  affections  must  be  conformed 
to  the  law  of  conscience,  and  will  have  an  intrinsic  beauty 
as  moral.  The  beauty  of  holiness  is  the  highest  of  which 
the  mind  is  capable,  and  this  implies  the  conformity  of  the 
affections  to  a  perfect  law. 

What  has  now  been  said  applies  to  particular  affec- 
tions ;  but  beauty  of  character,  as  a  whole,  must  include 
not  only  spontaneousness  and  moral  rectitude,  but  also 
symmetry.  There  is  a  tendency  in  spontaneous  move- 
ments to  extravagance  and  wildness.  This  must  be  re- 
pressed. The  river,  to  be  beautiful,  must  indeed  wind 
"  at  its  own  sweet  will,"  but  it  must  wind  within  its  banks. 
A  just  proportion  must  be  preserved  between  the  affec- 
tions themselves,  and  between  the  affections  and  the  other 
powers.  Symmetry,  involving  completeness,  is  a  most 
important  element  of  beauty  of  character. 

With  these  elements,  individual  mind  possesses  a 
beauty  far  transcending  that  of  nature.  And  if  this  be  so 
in  a  single  individual,  how  much  more  in  a  spiritual  system 


34  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

where  every  relation  is  responded  to,  and  every  duty  met ! 
What  is  the  harmony  of  music  to  the  concord  of  souls  in 
a  true  affection  ?  What  is  the  breaking  up  of  light  into 
its  seven  colors  as  it  meets  with  the  surfaces  of  matter, 
compared  with  the  modifications  of  benevolence  as  it 
meets  with  the  varying  forms  of  sensitive  and  intelligent 
life  ?  What  is  the  beauty  of  natural  scenery,  wiih  its  clus- 
tering objects,  and  contrasted  flowers  and  trees,  compared 
with  the  meeting  of  a  family,  upon  no  member  of  which  a 
stain  rests,  and  where  you  see  the  gray  hairs  of  the  patri- 
arch, and  the  infant  of  the  third  generation  ?  What  is  the 
beauty  of  satellities  circling  around  primaries,  and  pri- 
maries around  the  sun,  compared  with  the  order  of  families 
and  the  State — compared  with  the  order  of  that  moral 
government  of  which  God  is  the  centre  and  sun,  and  of 
which  a  holy  love  is  at  once  the  uniting  force  and  the 
glory  and  beauty? 

Thus  the  strength  and  the  beauty  which  impress  us 
most,  are  the  strength  of  the  will,  and  the  beauty 
OF  the  affections. 

That  the  tendency  already  noticed  of  strength  and 
beauty  in  matter  to  exclude  each  other  extends  also  to 
mind,  is  too  obvious  to  need  illustration  ;  and  it  is  equally 
obvious  that  the  most  desirable  character  can  be  reached 
only  as  these  are  combined  in  the  most  perfect  manner. 
And  what  is  there  that  this  combination  would  not  include  ? 
As  perfect  strength  and  beauty  of  the  body  would  imply 
and  include  all  that  is  desirable  in  the  body,  so  would 
perfect  strength  and  beauty  of  the  mind  and  of  character 
include  all  that  would  be  desirable  in  them.  What  is  there 
higher  or  better  that  we  can  wish  for  our  friends  ?  What 
higher  or  better  at  which  a  young  man  can  aim  ? 

The  question  then  arises,  how  this  combination  can  be 


STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY.  35 

reached.  And  this  brings  us  directly  to  the  assertion  of 
the  Bible,  that  "strength  and  beauty  are  in  his  sanctuary." 
Adopting  its  spiritual  import,  the  doctrine  here  indicated, 
and  which  I  wish  to  enforce,  is,  that  it  is  only  within  the 
fold  and  under  the  banner  of  the  religion  of  Christ,  that 
strength  and  beauty  of  character  can  be  perfectly  com- 
bined. Aside  from  Christianity  there  may  be  strength 
combined  with  the  beauty  of  the  natural  affections,  but 
strength  combined  with  the  highest  beauty  thffre  can- 
not be. 

That  true  religion  would  produce  this  combination 
appears  because  God  desires  it.  This  desire  he  has  indi- 
cated, as  we  cannot  doubt,  in  the  structure  of  his  works 
already  referred  to.  Does  he  then  value  strength  and 
beauty  in  these  }  Has  he  made  them  the  foundation  of  all 
that  we  admire,  and  of  most  that  we  value  in  material 
forms  ?  And  shall  he  not  value  that  in  mind  which  is  so 
analogous  as  to  be  called  by  the  same  name  1  Yea,  is  not 
nature  typical  ?  Was  it  not  so  constituted  for  the  very 
purpose  of  leading  us  on  gradually  to  ideas  of  this  higher 
strength  and  beauty  ?  Is  it  not  but  as  the  Mosaic  dis- 
pensation to  lead  us  to  something  higher  and  better  than 
itself.?  As  certainly  as  nature  was  intended  to  lead  us  at 
all  to  a  knowledge  of  the  perfections  of  God,  so  certainly 
were  physical  strength  and  beauty  intended  to  reveal  to  us 
that  in  Him  which  is  the  substance,  and  of  which  these 
are  but  the  reflection.  Hence,  only  as  there  is  spiritual 
strength  and  beauty,  can  his  own  image  be  produced  in 
his  creatures. 

But  on  this  point,  if  nature  could  leave  us  in  doubt, 
revelation  does  not.  We  are  commanded  to  "be  strong 
in  the  Lord  ;  "  and  the  Psalmist  prays  that  the  beauty  of 
the  Lord  our  God  may  be  upon  us.  It  is  the  object  of  the 
Saviour  to  present  to  himself  a  glorious  church,  without 


-6  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

spot  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing.  Does  God  then  desire 
this  ?  Then  must  it  be  the  duty  and  aspiration  of  every 
religious  man  to  strive  for  it.  So  only  is  man  religious,  so 
only  ennobled,  as  he  strives  in  coincidence  with  the  pur- 
poses and  plans  of  God — as  he  works  "  according  to  the 
pattern  showed  him  in  the  mount."  Does  God  desire 
this?  Then  will  He  who  is  the  foundation  of  all  strength 
and  beauty  ultimately  impart  them  to  those,  ancTTo  those 
only,  who  shall  come  to  Him  for  them.  Thus  coming, 
that  process  of  assimilation  will  take  place,  by  which,  as 
they  behold  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  they  shall  be  changed 
into  the  same  image.  Approaching  the  sun,  they  will 
shine  brighter,  and  the  strength  of  their  movement  will  be 
increased.  God  will  clothe  them  with  strength  and  beauty, 
and  thus  these  shall  be  the  completion  and  glory  of  his 
spiritual,  as  they  are  of  his  material  creation. 

Again.  That  the  religion  of  Christ  must  produce  this 
combination  of  strength  and  beauty,  is  obvious  from  the 
character  of  Christ.  To  be  a  Christian,  a  man  must  not 
only  receive  the  doctrines  and  admire  the  precepts  of 
Christ,  but  must  be  like  him.  He  can  be  a  Christian  only 
as  he  actually  follows  Christ  and  is  like  Christ.  In  this  is 
found  a  grand  peculiarity  of  Christianity  as  distinguished 
from  other  systems.  But  there  has  never  appeared  on  the 
earth  any  character  which  approximated  to  that  of  Christ, 
in  the  union  of  strength  and  beauty.  In  him  we  see  the 
strength  of  achievement,  and  the  strength  of  endurance. 
He  moved  with  calm  majest}^,  like  the  sun.  The  bloody 
sweat,  and  the  crown  of  thorns,  and  the  cross,  were  full  in 
his  eye,  but  he  was  "obedient  unto  death."  In  his  per- 
fect self-sacrifice  we  see  the  perfection  of  strength  ;  in  the 
love  which  prompted  it  we  see  the  perfection  of  beauty. 
This  combination  of  self-sacrifice  and  love,  thus  perfect  in 
Christ,  must  be  commenced  in  every  Christian  ;  and  when 


■    STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY.  37 

it  shall  be,  in  its  spirit,  complete  in  him,  then  will  he  also 
be  perfect  in  strength  and  beauty. 

But  once  more.  That  this  doctrine  is  true,  appears 
from  the  very  nature  of  true  religion.  This  is  no  mere 
impulse  ;  and  strength  of  character  is  not  a  blind  obstinacy, 
which,  if  it  does  show  strength  of  will,  shows  also,  in  equal 
proportion,  weakness  of  intellect.  No  :  an  intelligent 
faith  is  at  the  foundation  of  Christian  character.  Such  a 
faith  will  "  work,"  that  is,  it  will  produce  obedience,  and 
it  will  "  work  by  love."  But  it  is  in  obedience  to  a  perfect 
law,  from  love,  that  we  find  the  highest  expression  of 
strength  and  beauty.  Law  demands  the  approbation  of 
the  moral  nature,  and  the  intelligent  action  of  the  will  in 
obedience ;  but  it  comes  as  an  external  force,  and  when  it 
conflicts  with  inclination,  obedience  will  have  in  it  some- 
thing of  constraint ;  it  will  not  be  perfect  freedom  ;  it  will 
be  shorn  of  its  beauty.  But  let  a  perfect  law  no  longer 
stand  without  as  a  law  of  constraint ;  let  it  enter  in  and 
become  the  internal  law  of  the  mind,  so  that  every  inclina- 
tion and  current  of  the  soul — all  its  love — shall  set  in  the 
same  direction,  and  then  will  there  be  a  confluence  of  all 
in  man  that  is  rational  and  moral,  with  all  that  is  emotive 
— of  all  the  elernents  which  produce  strength  with  those 
which  produce  beauty.  This  is  the  consummation  which 
the  world  waits  for,  the  deliverance  and  the  rest.  So  only 
can  man  be  at  peace  with  the  law,  and  at  peace  with  him- 
self. So  only  can  the  most  intense  activity  become  a 
harmony  and  a  joy,  become  rest  and  peace.  So  only  can 
the  nuptials  be  celebrated  of  inclination  with  conscience, 
of  liberty  with  law.  It  is  of  the  essence  of  Christianity  to 
produce  this  identification  of  activity  and  repose,  this 
union  of  inclination  and  conscience,  of  liberty  and  law,  and 
thus  of  strength  and  beauty.  So  doing,  it  must  be  true ; 
for  it  so  accords  with  the  nature  of  man  as  to  embosom  his 


38  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

highest  good  here,  and  to  contain  the  elements  of  heaven. 
If  it  be  not  true,  falsehood  is  as  good  as  truth,  for  no  truth 
could  more  demonstrably  save  man.  Starting  with  thest 
combinations,  the  immortal  spirit  will  need  nothing  but 
the  expansion  of  its  powers  to  enable  it  to  move  on  in  its 
unending  way  with  the  strength  of  a  giant  and  the  beauty 
of  an  angel. 

This  is  a  point  on  which  we  may  well  dwell.  You 
know  what  a  terror  to  us  law  is,  especially  the  law  of  God  ; 
how  severe  and  onerous,  even  while  it  commends  itself 
to  the  conscience,  its  requisitions  seem.  You  know  what 
that  fear  of  its  penalty  is  that  hath  torment.  Now,  could 
we  come  to  see  the  stern  features  of  this  law  so  radiant  with 
loveliness  that  we  would  not  have  one  of  them  changed ; 
could  we  see  within  its  domain  such  a  perfection  of  holi- 
ness and  happiness  that  no  wish  would  stray  beyond  that 
domain  ;  could  we  adopt  this  external  law  as  the  law  of  the 
mind,  so  that  it  should  become  the  life  of  our  life,  how 
plain  is  it  that  all  the  harmonies  of  the  soul  would  be  re- 
stored, and  that  in  its  every  movement  there  would  be 
strength  and  beauty.  But  this  enthronement  of  the  law  of 
God,  or  as  I  would  choose  to  say,  of  the  God  of  the  la^v, 
in  the  centre  of  the  affections,  must  come  from  a  periec^- 
Christianity — it  can  come  from  that  alone  ;  no  other  'system 
even  proposes  to  itself  such  a  result ;  and  hence  we  may 
regard  the  doctrine  as  established,  that  strength  and  beauty 
are  in  his  sanctuary,  and  only  there. 

But  if  this  be  so,  it  may  be  asked  why  more  of  moral 
beauty  has  not  been  manifested  in  the  lives  of  Christians. 
It  is  well  known  that  evangelical  religion  especially  has 
been  regarded  by  some  as  distasteful,  and  the  lives  of  its 
professors  as  severe,  and  harsh,  and  the  reverse  of  beau- 
tiful. 

To  this  two  answers  may  be  given.     The  first  is  that 


STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY.  39 

the  real  beauty  of  Christian  character  that  exists  is  not 
known,  nor  appreciated.  It  is  not  known — for  this  is  no 
conservatory  plant  fostered  by  human  culture  and  admira- 
tion. It  springs  up  under  the  eye  of  God  on  the  mountain- 
side, and  in  the  retired  valley.  For  Him  it  blooms,  and  He 
who  notices  the  violet  that  no  human  eye  ever  sees  will 
notice  this.  It  is  not  appreciated — for  the  standards  of 
this  world  are  wrong.  The  beauty  which  the  world  ad- 
mires and  idolizes,  is  that  beauty  of  fashion  and  of  art 
which  may  minister  to  vanity,  to  sensuality,  to  superstition 
— that  beauty  of  manners  which  may  cover  a  corrupt  heart 
— and  that  beauty  of  nature  which  may  become  a  part  of 
a  pervading  pantheism.  To  these  the  Christian  would 
give  their  due  place,  but  he  thinks  little  of  them  compared 
with  the  beauty  of  the  affections  and  the  life.  To  him  the 
character  of  Christ  is  supremely  beautiful.  He  is  the 
"  chief  among  ten  thousand,"  but  how  is  he  to  the  world? 
It  was  foretold  of  Him,  perfect  in  beauty  as  his  character 
was,  that  he  should  be  a  root  out  of  dry  ground,  and  that 
when  we  should  see  him  there  would  be  no  beauty  in 
him  that  we  should  desire  him.  This  was  fulfilled.  The 
beauty  of  the  character  of  Christ  was  not  appreciated  in 
his  own  day  ;  it  is  not  now  ;  and  it  is  to  be  expected  that 
the  disciple  shall  be  as  his  Lord.  It  cannot  be  expected 
that  the  selfish,  the  sensual,  the  ambitious,  the  proud,  the 
vain,  or  the  frivolous  should  admire  that  which  is  so  op- 
posed to  their  own  temper  and  character.  Especially  can- 
not this  be  expected  when  holiness  lays  aside  its  abstract 
form,  and  is  seen  in  actual  life  opposing  and  casting  down 
cherished  corruptions  and  interests.  Then,  instead  of 
admiration  and  praise,  all  history  shows  that  moral  good- 
ness and  beauty  are  vilified  ;  they  are  cast  out  as  evil  ; 
are  persecuted  and   crucified.     What    do  bigoted  perse- 


40  STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY. 

cutors  and   infuriated  mobs   know  or  care  about   moral 
beauty  ? 

A  second  answer  is,  that  Christianity  is  here  but  incipi- 
ent, militant,  imperfect.  It  begins  in  repentance,  in  tears, 
in  struggles  against  sin,  in  self-denial  and  renunciation  of 
what  the  heart  had  clung  to.  In  this  state  of  struggle 
there  is  a  beauty  to  the  eye  of  God,  but  not  to  that  of  the 
world.  But  beyond  this  there  are  many  Christians  who  do 
not  get — nay,  they  seem  to  cease  to  struggle,  and  stereo- 
type a  form  and  aspect  of  religion  fit  for  neither  a  sinner 
nor  a  saint,  that  is  neither  of  the  law  nor  the  gospel. 
There  is  in  it  slavery  and  penance.  The  face  of  duty  is 
austere.  They  abstain  from  gayety,  from  fashion  and 
folly,  too  much  through  fear,  or  conventionalism.  They 
have  no  consistency.  They  attend  church  on  the  Sabbath, 
but  show  little  of  the  spirit  of  religion  during  the  week. 
They  have  more  of  the  form  of  religion,  than  of  the  spirit 
of  benevolence.  The  love  of  the  world  in  them  is  not 
slain  by  the  cross  of  Christ.  There  is  no  free  and  full  and 
joyful  consecration  of  themselves  to  God.  They  know 
nothing  of  the  "joy  of  the  Lord  "  as  their  strength.  But 
religion — if  anything  with  a  preponderance  of  these  ele- 
ments can  be  called  such — can  be  beautiful  only  as  the 
conditions  of  beauty  are  met.  It  must  be  from  the  heart, 
and  it  must  be  symmetrical.  The  miserable  notion  of 
duty  as  imposing  tasks,  which  is  so  prevalent,  must  pass 
away.  Everything  harsh  and  austere  must  vanish  from 
her  countenance.  The  Christian  must  look  upon  her  with 
the  eye  of  a  lover.  At  her  voice  his  heart  must  throb,  and 
his  chest  heave ;  her  call  must  be  to  him  as  the  sound  of 
the  trumpet  to  the  war-horse.  Then  would  each  indivi- 
dual Christian  have  not  only  strength,  but  beauty;  and 
that  conception  in  Holy  Writ  of  the  embodied  church,  so 
beautiful,  and   so   accordant   with  the  spirit   of  our  text, 

2 


STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY.  4I 

would  be  realized.  In  her  beauty,  she  would  be  "  fair  as 
the  moon  and  clear  as  the  sun,"  and  in  her  strength  she 
would  be  "  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners." 

In  the  preceding  discussion,  a  distinction  has  been 
indicated  between  that  strength  and  beauty  of  the  faculties 
which  belong  to  genius  and  talent  and  taste,  and  that 
strength  and  beauty  of  character  which  involve  moral 
excellence.  This  distinction  is,  perhaps,  sufficiently  ob- 
vious j  but  genius  and  talent  have  been,  and  still  are,  so 
much  deified,  and  have  cast  such  an  illusive  attraction 
around  moral  deformity,  that  I  wish  to  draw  to  it  particu- 
lar attention. 

The  distinction  is  that  between  the  agent  and  the 
instrument,  between  a  person  giving  direction  and  that 
which  is  directed.  This  relative  place  of  these  is  to  be 
carefully  noticed,  because  of  the  peculiar  difficulty  there 
is,  in  the  present  moral  state  of  the  world,  in  combining 
talent  and  genius  with  a  high  and  reverent  regard  for  duty. 
This  is  not  that  there  is  any  natural  opposition  between 
them,  but  because  that  admiration  and  influence  which  are 
so  dear  to  men  possessing  talent  and  genius  are  expected 
to  follow  them  without  much  reference  to  moral  integrity. 
Now  what  we  say,  is,  that  we  are  not  to  over-estimate  the 
mere  instrument,  however  brilliant.  We  say  that  our 
chief  regard  is  due  to  that  sacred  personality,  that  moral 
presence,  which  has  both  the  power  and  the  right  to  direct 
talent  and  genius,  and  before  which  it  is  their  place  to 
wait  and  to  bow.  We  say  that  in  any  other  relation  talent 
is  a  curse,  and  that  the  light  of  genius  can  only  ''lead  to 
bewilder,  and  dazzle  to  blind."  We  would  honor  genius 
and  talent  as  gifts  of  God  ;  we  would  make  large  allow- 
ance, if  they  must  have  them,  or  think  they  must,  for  their 
peculiarities,  their   idiosyncrasies,  their  weaknesses  even  ; 


42 


STRENGTH   AND   BEAUTY. 


but  when  those  who  possess  them  would  regard  themselves, 
and  be  regarded  by  others,  as  privileged  persons,  whose 
moral  delinquencies  are  to  be  allowed  or  winked  at,  and 
that,  too,  on  the  very  ground  that  should  be  their  highest 
condemnation,  we  would  utter  our  solemn  protest.  We 
say  that  the  influence  of  no  other  men  can  be  so  hostile  to 
the  best  interests  of  the  community — if  they  be  public 
men,  to  the  liberties  of  a  free  people.  We  say  that  no 
rebuke  can  be  too  prompt  or  severe  when  any  man  would 
practically  dignify  or  even  palliate  meanness,  or  trickery, 
or  falsehood,  or  profaneness,  or  licentiousness,  or  corrup- 
tion, by  associating  them  with  high  intellectual  gifts.  In 
the  judgment  of  God,  nothing  can  compensate  for  the 
want  of  moral  strength  and  beauty  of  character ;  in  com- 
parison with  these,  everything  else  is  as  nothing.  This 
should  be  so  in  the  judgment  of  man,  and  to  this  position 
we  would  fain  hope  that  public  opinion  is  slowly  finding 
its  way. 

These  are  the  great  thing.  On  these  your  happiness  and 
influence  here  will  mainly  depend  ;  by  these  your  whole 
interest,  under  the  government  of  God,  will  be  ultimately 
decided.  My  object  has  been  to  bring  to  your  definite 
apprehension  a  standard  of  character  at  which  you  might 
safely  aim,  and  to  show  you  how  that  standard  might  be 
reached.  I  have  wished  to  give  you  a  motto  to  be  in- 
scribed upon  your  banner,  which  might  give  you  strength  in 
the  hour  of  conflict.  And  what  can  I  give  you  better  than 
strength  atid  beauty  ?  What  can  you  do  better  than  to 
seek  the  highest  combinations  of  these  in  the  characters 
you  are  to  form  and  to  manifest  ? 

And  in  doing  this,  you  are  not  to  suppose,  from  anything 
that  has  been  said,  that  you  will  be  laboring  to  blend 
things  that  are  naturally  opposed  to  each  other.     No;  in 


STRENGTH  AND   BEAUTY.  43 

the  deepest  view  of  them  they  are  but  the  varying  forms 
of  the  manifestation  of  one  force.     They  are  not  one  as 
opposite  polar  forces  are  one ;  but  strength,  though  not 
necessarily  manifesting  itself  in  the  form  of  beauty,  though 
it  has  a  centrifugal  force  that  tends  to  carry  it  off  from  its 
true   curve,  does  yet  underlie  it,  and  is  essential  to  the 
formation  of  that  curve.     Rightly  directed,  strength  seems 
to  attenuate  and  expand  itself  into  beauty  as  the  trunk  of 
the  tree,  which  is   strong,  attenuates   and  expands  itself 
into  the  branches  and  the  leaves,  which  are  beautiful.     It 
is  strength  alone  that  can  elaborate  itself  into  beauty  ;  and 
only  as  it  does  this  can  we  have  evidence  of  the  perfection 
of  strength.     The  exquisite  finish  of  the  leaf  of  the  tulip, 
is  from  the  circulation  within  it  of  the  divine  omnipotence, 
and  is  as  essential  to  the  perfect  evidence  for  that,  as  the 
spheres  that  roll  above.     So  can  you  give  the  highest  evi- 
dence of  strength  of  character  only  as  that  strength  can 
so  restrain  and  control  its  own  workings,  as  to  elaborate 
itself  into  beauty.     The   strength  that  we  want  is  not  a 
brute,  unregulated  strength;  the  beauty  that  we  want  is 
no  mere  surface  beauty,  but  we  want  a  beauty  on  the  sur- 
face of  life  that   is  from   the  central   force  of  principle 
within,  as  the  beauty  on  the  cheek  of  health  is  from  the 
central  force  at  the  heart.     This  is  the  combination  and 
the  character  that  the  world  needs,  that  you  need.    Going 
forth  with  this,  the  wildernesses  and  solitary  places  of  the 
earth  will  be  glad  for  you.     With  this  you  will  fill,  up  to 
the  measure  of  expectation,  and  beyond  it,  every  position 
of  domestic  and  social  and  public  life.     You  will  be  more 
appreciated  as  you  are  more  known.     The  natural  influ- 
ence of  uncommon  powers  or  acquisitions  will  not  be  hin- 
dered or  marred   by  those  sad  blemishes   that  everybody 
must  speak  of  in  a  whisper,  but  that  everybody  will  know. 
If  you   should   have   greatness   of  character,  it  will  not 


44  STRENGTH   AND   BKAUTY. 

shoot  up  into  those  isolated  and  starthng  peaks  that  at- 
tract notice  indeed,  but  are  barren  ;  but  it  will  rise  up 
into  those  broad  table-lands  that  are  covered  with  ver- 
dure, and  where  the  springs  arise  that  gladden  the  valleys. 
You  will  work  in  harmony  with  God,  and  He  will  give  you 
success. 

But  you  are  to  remember  that  the  strength  and  beauty 
that  can  do  this  are  not  those  of  nature.  The  strength  is 
the  strength  of  faith,  and  the  beauty  is  the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness. As  I  have  said,  it  is  only  through  the  religion  of 
Christ  that  this  combination  can  be  reached.  Here  is  our 
only  hope.  But  through  this  it  may  be  reached  ?  This 
combination  of  strength  and  beauty  you  may  all  reach, 
every  one  of  you  :  and  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  the 
blessings  that  will  flow  from  it  in  the  track  of  ages.  Other 
strength  will  decay,  other  beauty  will  fade,  but  this  strength 
will  only  grow  stronger  and  this  beauty  more  beautiful  as 
eternity  shall  roll  on.  "  They  that  wait  on  the  Lord  shall 
renew  their  strength;  they  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as 
eagles,  they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary,  they  shall  walk  and 
not  faint  \  "  and  "  the  beauty  oiih.^  Lord  "  their  "  God  shall 
be  upon  them."  This,  my  friends,  this  is  the  strength, 
and  this  the  beauty  I  desire  for  you.  In  your  characters 
may  they  be  blended,  and  in  all  the  pilgrimage  of  life  that 
is  now  before  you,  may  you  be  girded  with  strength  from 
on  high,  and  may  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  your  God  bf» 
upon  you. 


III. 

RECEIVING  AND  GIVING. 
It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.— Acts,  xx.  35. 

AS  a  dependent  being  man  is,  and  must  be,  a  receiver. 
From  God  he  must  receive  life  and  breath,  and  all 
things  ;  and  no  one  can  so  elevate  or  isolate  himself,  that 
he  shall  not  need  to  receive  from  his  fellow  men  those 
things  which  only  their  sympathy  and  kindness  can  bestow. 

Man  being  thus  necessarily  a  receiver,  we  should  anti- 
cipate, from  the  goodness  of  God,  that  it  would  be  blessed 
for  him  to  receive.  And  so  it  is.  It  is  blessed  for  the 
creature  to  receive  from  the  Creator.  It  is  blessed  not 
only  from  the  enjoyment  which  the  gift  itself  may  confer, 
but  as  awakening  admiration,  and  gratitude,  and  love.  It 
is  blessed  for  the  child  to  receive  from  the  parent,  for  the 
friend  to  receive  from  his  friend.  It  is  always  blessed  to 
receive  when  the  gift  is  born  of  affection. 

This  blessedness  our  Saviour  knew.  We  are  told  that 
Mary  Magdalene,  and  Joanna  the  wife  of  Chuza,  Herod's 
steward,  and  Susanna,  and  many  others,  ministered  to  him 
of  their  substance.  He  received  of  them  what  he  needed, 
and,  so  far  as  appears,  he  consented  thus  to  receive  at  the 
hands  of  gratitude  and  affection,  and  was  doubtless  blessed 
in  so  receiving  his  whole  support. 

But  if  it  is  thus  blessed  to  receive,  it  is  more  blessed  to 
give.     This  is  one  of  those  great  truths,  uttered  by  our 

♦**  August  15, 1852. 


4^  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

Saviour,  opposed  to  the  whole  spirit  and  practice  of  the 
age  in  which  he  appeared,  which,  like  his  inculcation  of  the 
forgiveness  of  enemies,  and  universal  philanthropy,  and 
seeking  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  showed  a  divine  insight. 
It  is  a  great  practical  truth,  which,  as  it  is  received  or  re- 
jected, must  affect  the  whole  spirit  and  all  the  results  of 
life. 

This  blessedness  was  that  pre-eminently  known  by  our 
Saviour.  "  The  Son  of  man  came,  not  to  be  ministered 
unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many." 
He  gave,  not  property,  but  himself.  He  gave  instruction, 
and  gifts  of  healing,  and  a  divine  sympathy.  He  gave  the 
energies  of  his  being  in  activity  and  in  suffering  for  the 
welfare  of  man. 

But  here  the  inquiry  arises,  what  is  it  to  give.  As  now 
used  this  term  carries  the  mind  chiefly,  if  not  wholly,  to 
property  ;  but  this  cannot  be  its  main  reference,  for 
then  neither  Christ  nor  his  Apostles  wrould  have  illus- 
trated their  own  precepts,  or  have  known,  to  any  great  ex- 
tent, the  blessedness  of  giving.  It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that 
no  direct  record  is  made,  that  either  Christ  or  his  Apos- 
tles ever  gave  any  thing  in  the  form  of  property ;  and  that 
would  be  a  sad  interpretation  which  would  restrict  the 
pleasures  and  benefits  of  giving,  to  the  rich.  To  give,  is 
not  merely  to  transfer  property  without  an  equivalent  from 
him  who  receives  it.  This  may  be  done  from  a  regard  to 
public  opinion,  to  quiet  conscience,  to  purchase  heaven,  to 
get  free  from  annoyance.  Property  is  not  affection,  it  is 
not  self  sacrificing  energy,  it  is  not  the  heart  or  the  life. 
No  ;  to  give^  is  to  iifipart  bmcfits  freely,  out  of  good  will  This 
Christ  and  his  Apostles  did.  Said  Peter  to  the  impotent 
man,  "  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none,  but  such  as  I  have 
give  I  thee.  In  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth,  rise 
up  and  walk."     Here  was  a  gift  which  money  could  not 


RECEIVING   AND   GIVING.  47 

purchase,  and  such  were  all  those  great  gifts  which  Christ 
came  to  bring.  Thus  understood,  the  pleasures  and  ben- 
efits of  giving  are  open  to  all,  even  to  her  who  is  poorer 
than  the  poor  widow  who  cast  in  her  two  mites.  All  can 
impart  benefits  of  some  kind,  freely  and  from  good  will ; 
and  the  proposition  which  we  now  wish  to  illustrate 
is,  that  thus  to  give  is  more  blessed  than  it  is  to  receive. 

That  this  is  so  may  appear,  first,  because  God  is  giver 
ouly,  and  not  a  receiver.  Of  the  modes  and  conditions 
of  the  divine  blessedness  we  know,  indeed,  very  little.  To 
our  conception,  God  must  have  been  perfectly  blessed  in 
himself,  when,  as  yet,  no  creative  act  had  rendered  the 
blessedness  of  giving  possible.  We  must  conceive  of  God 
as  self-sufficing  in  all  respects,  as  having  within  himself 
the  spring  of  his  own  activity,  and  finding  in  that  activity 
the  source  of  his  blessedness.  Without  activity  in  some 
form,  blessedness  is  inconceivable,  for  absolute  quiescence 
is  death.  But  if  we  know  little  of  the  modes  of  activity 
possible  to  God,  and  hence  of  the  modes  of  his  blessed- 
ness, we  may  yet  be  sure  that  in  all  the  forms  of  that 
activity  there  is  blessedness,  and  pre-eminent  blessedness 
in  those  which  are  pre-eminently  his.  But,  as  has  been 
said,  he  manifests  himself  only  as  a  giver.  He  is  so  in 
creation.  To  the  universe  of  matter,  overwhelming  us  as 
it  does  by  its  vastness  and  variety  and  glory,  he  gave  its 
being.  From  the  resources  of  his  own  omnipotence  he 
caused  that  which  was  not,  to  be,  and  no  doubt  there  was 
a  sublime  blessedness  not  only  in  the  result,  when  he  be- 
held and  pronounced  it  good,  but  also  in  the  energy  by 
which  it  was  accomplished.  And  having  created  this  uni- 
verse with  all  its  properties  and  adjustments,  he  gave  it  to 
his  sensitive  and  rational  creatures  to  be  the  theatre  of 
their  being  and  a  source  of  enjoyment.  To  the  sensitive 
and  spiritual  universe  also,  through  all  its  ranks,  from  the 


48  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

insect  up  to  the  seraph,  God  has  given  being,  with  its  infi- 
nite diversity  of  forms,  and  modes  of  perception,  and 
capacities,  and  responsibilities.  Throughout  the  universe 
there  is  nothing  that  any  being  is_.  or  that  he  possesses, 
that  is  not  the  gift  of  God.  And  net  only  has  God  given 
in  creating,  but  he  gives  continually.  Whatever  we  may 
say  of  second  causes,  he  is  the  constant  upholder  and  gov- 
ernor of  all  things,  the  ever  present,  conscious  giver  of 
every  good  and  perfect  gift.  This  is  the  highest  concep- 
tion we  can  form  of  any  being,  that  he  should  not  only 
have  the  spring  of  activity  within  himself  and  be  self- 
sufficing,  but  that  he  should  suffice  for  a  universe,  and 
find  a  conscious  blessedness  in  giving  without  limit  and 
without  exhaustion  forevermore.  Here  we  find  a  con- 
ception that  bears  us  far  above  the  glories  of  night,  and 
of  all  telescopic  heavens.  Here  we  find  the  source  of  the 
river  of  the  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  that  overflows 
and  sparkles  and  spreads  itself  to  the  outmost  limits  of 
the  creation.  What  are  the  starry  heavens  to  Him  who  is 
enthroned  as  the  infinite  and  only  original  giver  in  this 
limitless  universe  ! 

To  give  thus  without  exhaustion,  would  seem  to  be  the 
natural  prerogative  of  God  ;  but  there  is  also  a  form  of 
giving  that  implies  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice  ;  it  implies 
that  we  forego  a  good  for  the  sake  of  the  good  of  others. 
How  this  may  be  compatible  with  what  we  conceive  of  the 
infinite  and  perfect  blessedness  of  God,  it  may  not  be  easy 
to  see ;  but  that  he  is  capable  of  this  form  of  giving,  the 
Scriptures  plainly  assert  when  they  say,  that  He  "so loved 
the  world  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son."  Possibly 
the  highest  blessedness  of  a  benevolent  being  can  be  known 
only  through  self-sacrifice.  Blessedness  is  more  than 
pleasure  ;  it  is  the  consciousness  and  exercise  of  the  high- 
est goodness.     This  is  the  highest  form  of  giving,  and  con- 


RECEIVING  AND    GIVING.  49 

stitutes  Christ  the  great  gift  of  God.  It  makes  him  not 
merely  the  outflow  of  his  natural  attributes,  but  the  mani- 
festation of  his  heart. 

And  while  God  thus  gives,  he  does  not  receive.  "Who 
hath  first  given  unto  Him  and  it  shall  be  recompensed  to 
him  again  ? "  By  the  right  of  an  original  creation,  and  of 
a  constant  preservation,  all  things  are  already  his.  "  He 
is  not  worshipped  with  men's  hands  as  though  he  needed 
any  thing,  seeing  he  giveth  to  all  life  and  breath  and  all 
things."  He  may  be  said  to  accept  of  our  services  j  that 
is,  he  may  be  pleased  with  our  dutiful  affection,  but  we  can 
bestow  upon  him  no  gift ;  he  can  receive  nothing  from  us 
so  as  to  become  the  owner  of  that  which  was  not  his  before. 
We  can  never  requite  him  by  paying  back  an  equivalent; 
we  can  lay  him  under  no  obligation. 

If  then  God  finds  his  own  blessedness  in  giving,  and 
not  at  all  in  receiving,  we  should  naturally  expect,  that 
those  who  are  made  in  his  image  would  find  it  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive. 

But,  secondly,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  mention  that  this 
is  one  of  those  great  truths  which  seem  to  find  their  prefig- 
uration  and  twilight  in  the  material  creation.  The  sun, 
the  grandest  and  noblest  of  all  material  objects,  is  only  a 
giver.  Age  after  age,  from  his  high  place,  he  imparts, 
without  exhaustion,  light  and  heat,  and  receives  nothing  in 
return.  In  the  coldness  of  our  philosophy  we  say,  indeed, 
that  this  involves  no  blessedness.  This  is  true,  just  as  it 
is  true  that  there  is  no  color  spread  over  the  surface  of 
bodies  ;  and  yet  is  the  sun  a  silent  preacher  of  a  truth  that 
is  not  in  him,  because  we  are  so  made  that  we  must  diffuse 
over  matter  our  own  conceptions  and  vitalize  it  with  our 
feelings.  Let  the  natural  emotions  speak,  and  they  say  at 
once,  that  the  sun  is  "as  a  bridegroom  coming  out  of  his 
chamber,  and  rejokcth  as  a  strong  man  to  run  a  race."  We 


50  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

attribute  to  this  sublime  body  power  and  dignity,  and  feel 
that,  if  it  were  concious,  it  must  rejoice  in  its  greatness  and 
in  its  dispensing  power.  This  teaching  becomes  more  im- 
pressive by  contrast.  The  sun  gives  only ;  the  sandy  des- 
ert only  receives,  and  hence  we  regard  it  with  aversion,  and 
as  fit  only  to  symbolize  the  drearier  desert  of  a  heart  thor- 
oughly selfish  and  absorbing. 

But  I  observe,  thirdly,  that  this  truth  is  enstamped  upon 
our  very  constitution  ;  it  grows  out  of  the  frame-work  of  our 
being. 

To  see  this,  we  have  only  to  examine  a  little  the  kinds 
and  sources  of  the  blessedness  of  which  we  are  capable. 
As  has  been  said,  all  blessedness  must  come  from  activity 
and  of  this  there  may  be  three  kinds.  One  of  these  we 
need  not  consider,  because  there  is  in  it  nothing  of  giving 
or  receiving.  It  is  the  activity  of  the  mind  within  itself,  in 
contemplation  and  thought,  when  it  receives  no  impression 
from  without,  and  puts  forth  no  outward  activity.  Laying 
this  aside,  then,  we  find  that  man  is  a  centre  of  activities, 
from  which  influences,  originating  in  his  will,  flow  outward, 
and  affect  the  world  without ;  and  also  that  he  is  a  centre 
of  susceptibilities,  to  which  influences  flow  in  from  the 
world  without,  and  by  which  he  is  affected.  In  the  first 
case  he  is  truly  active,  putting  forth  powers,  and  may  be 
said,  in  a  large  sense,  to  give  ;  in  the  second,  he  is  as 
passive  as  a  perceiving  and  sentient  being  can  be,  and  he 
receives. 

It  is  in  conformity  with  this  general  idea  that  the  phys- 
ical frame,  even,  is  constructed.  The  nervous  system  is  a 
railway  with  a  double  track.  It  is  now  well  known  that 
there  are  two  sets  of  nerves,  those  of  motion,  and  those 
of  sensation,  running  side  by  side,  apparently  intimately 
blended,  yet  entirely  distinct  in  their  origin  and  office,  by 
one  of  which  influences  pass  from  within  outward,  and  by 


RECEIVING  AND   GIVING.  51 

the  other  from  without  inward  ;  by  one  of  which  we  re- 
ceive, and  by  the  other,  give.  By  the  one  we  receive 
materials  of  instruction,  and  impressions  pleasing  or  pain- 
ful j  by  the  other,  we  exert  our  wills  as  agents,  and  give 
forth  our  own  proper  activity. 

When  we  open  our  eyes  to  the  light,  when  we  behold 
the  trees  and  the  mountains,  the  waters  and  the  flowers 
the  stars  and  works  of  art,  we  receive  ;  when  there  comes 
to  us  the  perfume  of  flowers,  or  the  fragrance  of  the  new- 
made  hay,  we  receive ;  when  we  taste  the  strawberry,  the 
peach,  the  melon,  we  receive  ;  when  we  hear  the  song  of 
birds,  the  rustling  of  leaves,  the  rippling  of  waters,  or  the 
music  of  the  flute  or  of  the  voice,  we  receive  ;  when  we 
open  our  minds,  through  the  senses,  to  thoughts  and  im- 
pressions from  others,  we  receive.  Here  the  movement  is 
from  without,  inward,  and  if  no  folly  or  wickedness  inter- 
vene, it  is  always  blessed,  and  only  blessed,  thus  to  receive. 

To  this  process  God  has  attached  pleasure,  as  he  has 
to  that  of  receiving  food,  but  both  the  process  and  the 
pleasure  are  as  clearly  subordinate  in  one  case  as  in  the 
other.  We  receive  food  that  the  body  maybe  built  up  and 
strengthened,  and  the  pleasure  is  incidental.  So  here,  the 
object  of  the  importing  railway,  or  rather  railways,  is  to 
bring  to  the  mind  those  materials  upon  which  it  may  work 
and  be  strengthened,  which  may  be  elaborated  into  speech 
and  action  and  enable  man  to  become  a  giver,  freighting 
the  outward  railway  with  the  products  of  knowledge  and 
of  love. 

This  last  is  the  true  sphere  of  man.  He  was  not  made 
to  be  merely  a  passive  receiver  of  pleasure,  a  bundle  of 
sensibilities,  to  be  madly  wasted  or  artistically  and  pru- 
dently exhausted,  beginning  with  a  fountain  full  and  spark- 
ling, and  ending,  as  all  mere  pleasure  must,  with  the  vapid 
and  bitter  dregs  of  decay  and  exhaustion.     He  was  made 


52  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

to  be  an  agent,  with  powers  having  the  spring  of  their  ac- 
tivity within  themselves,  and  having  it  for  their  law  that 
they  shall  increase  in  strength  by  their  own  legitimate  ac- 
tivity. This  it  is  that  allies  man  to  the  angels,  and  makes 
him  of  inappreciable  worth,  and  fits  him  to  become  increas- 
ingly a  giver,  and  to  walk  with  waxing  strength  in  an  up- 
ward path,  even  the  path  of  the  just,  that  shineth  more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day.  This  it  is  in  man  that  lays 
the  foundation  for  that  most  magnificent  of  all  figures,  used 
by  our  Saviour  concerning  the  righteous,  that  they  shall 
shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father. 

But  if  this  be  so,  if  the  sphere  of  activity  and  of  giving 
be  higher  than  that  of  passivity  and  receiving,  then  must 
it  be  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive ;  for  where 
should  any  being  find  his  highest  blessedness  but  in  the  legiti- 
mate exercise  of  his  highest  powers  ?  This  is  the  law  of  all 
beings  ;  so,  and  so  only,  can  their  highest  blessedness  be 
reached. 

Intimately  as  the  pleasures  of  receptivity  and  of  activity 
are  blended,  we  yet  find  in  the  distinction  just  drawn,  a 
line  of  cleavage  dividing  the  race  into  two  classes.  To 
the  one  belong  the  lovers  and  seekers  of  pleasure  as  distin- 
guished from  blessedness  or  happiness  ;  for  pleasure  arises 
from  some  congruity  between  us  and  that  which  is  without. 
In  it  the  movement  is  from  without,  inward,  and  we  are 
receivers.  The  lovers  of  pleasure  are  those  who  make  it 
their  business  to  find  that  without  them,  which  shall  act 
on  their  susceptibilities  and  minister  to  their  passive  en- 
joyment. To  seek  this  predominatingly  is  the  fatal  mis- 
take and  besetting  sin  of  most.  To  do  so  is  compatible 
with  the  highest  forms  of  civilization  and  df  worldly  respec- 
tabilty.  It  rather  imphes  the  cultivation  and  patronage  of 
the  elegancies  and  refinements  of  life,  and  skill  in  the  mt^st 
agreeable  forms  which  self-love  and  selfishness  can  assume 


RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 


53 


The  elite  of  the  class  may  worship  beauty  and  art,  but  the 
mass  will  worship  sensual  pleasure.  What  they  seek  for 
on  earth  is  the  highest  combination  of  these,  and  they 
would  desire  no  heaven  but  a  Mohammedan  paradise. 
Give  them  the  means  of  gratification,  and  they  are  court- 
eous, liberal  and  tolerant ;  interfere  with  these,  and  they 
are  intolerant,  deceitful,  malignant,  cruel ;  and  thus  vices 
and  cruelties  more  shocking  than  those  of  barbarism  may 
mingle  and  alternate  with  the  highest  forms  of  luxury  and 
refinement.  With  such  an  object  of  life,  immortality  and 
accountablility  disappear  from  its  back-ground,  and  its 
value  is  estimated  in  sensations  ;  the  individual  loses  his 
self-respect  and  his  confidence  in  others ;  and  though 
society  may  seem  to  be  crowned  with  verdure  and  flowers 
to  its  summit,  yet  that  summit  will  be  the  crater  of  a 
volcano. 

Those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  make  their  activities 
the  basis  of  their  character,  seeking  blessedness  rather 
than  pleasure,  need,  indeed,  to  have  those  activities  rightly 
directed ;  but  they  are  on  a  basis  which  is  capable  of 
sustaining  the  highest  and  most  solid  structure  of  indi- 
vidual and  social  greatness  and  blessedness. 

We  have  now  considered  man  as  having  sensibilities 
on  the  one  hand,  and  a  will  on  the  other, — a  receptivity 
and  an  activity  in  correspondence  with  which  his  physical 
frame  is  formed.  But  we  find  a  similar  correspondence 
of  faculties  in  the  mind  itself,  with  no  corresponding  phy- 
sical organization.  Man  has  not  only  sensibilities  and  a 
will,  but  also  desires  and  affections  ;  and  as  he  receives 
by  his  sensibilities  and  gives  by  his  will,  so  does  he  receive 
by  his  desires  and  give  by  his  affections. 

Having  shown  that  to  give  forth  activity  and  influence 
is  higher  and  more  blessed  than  to  receive  impressions, 
we  mav  now  leave  behind  us,  in  our  search  for  the  highest 


54  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

blessedness,  all  mere  passive  enjoyment,  and,  while  we 
estimate  that  at  its  proper  value,  consider  only  the  differ- 
ent forms  of  activity.  All  activity  from  within,  outward, 
can  be  regarded  as  a  form  of  giving  only  in  the  wide  sense 
already  mentioned  ;  but  all  giving  is  a  form  of  activity 
that  springs  from  the  affections,  and  we  say  that  this  is 
more  blessed  than  any  form  of  receiving  through  the 
desires. 

It  is  of  the  very  nature  of  the  affections  that  they  give, 
and  of  the  desires  that  they  receive.  The  affections  have 
persons  for  their  object ;  they  arise  in  view  of  worth  or 
worthiness  in  them,  real  or  supposed,  and  we  seem  in 
their  exercise  to  give  our  very  being.  They  are  disinter- 
ested, they  flow  out  from  us,  they  give,  and  appropriate 
nothing.  That  is  not  affection  which  is  not  disinterested, 
and  it  is  only  because  this  is  not  a  world  of  open  vision 
than  any  outward  token,  flowing  from  a  secret  regard  to 
self  can  ever  be  supposed  to  give  evidence  of  affection. 
In  the  sphere  of  affection  every  outward  token  is  valued 
as  the  evidence  of  a  gift  more  precious  than  itself.  When 
we  give  affection  we  truly  give  ;  and  what  is  commonly 
called  giving,  is  really  so  only  as  it  is  an  evidence  of 
this. 

The  desires,  on  the  other  hand,  have,  as  their  distin- 
guishing characteristics,  that  they  appropriate  to  themselves 
the  things  desired,  and  that  their  object  is  things  and  not 
persons.  They  appropriate  wholly ;  they  receive,  and 
give  nothing.  Here  self  is  the  centre,  and  nothing  is 
valued  except  as  it  can  be  made  to  revolve  towards  the 
vortex  of  this  whirlpool. 

And  here  again  it  is  blessed  to  receive,  and  only 
blessed,  if  the  desires  be  kept  within  their  own  sphere. 
Not  alone  is  there  the  music  of  enjoyment  from  the  cor- 
relation and  adjustment  of  external  things  with  a  sensitive 


RECEIVING  AND   GIVING.  ce 

organization,  of  the  harp  with  the  breeze,  but  in  the 
attainment  of  its  object  by  each  of  the  desires.  There  is 
a  legitimate  enjoyment  in  receiving  wealth,  and  admira- 
tion, and  fame  and  power. 

But  here,  no  less  than  previously,  do  we  find  an  obvious 
subordination.  Not  more  obvious  is  it  that  food  should 
be  received  to  be  given  back  in  strength  and  activity, 
or  that  sensation  should  minister  to  knowledge,  than  it  is 
that  the  desires  were  intended  to  receive  that  they  might 
minister  to  the  affections.  Let  a  man  pursue  wealth  and 
power,  not  for  their  own  sakes,  but  solely  that  he  may  do 
good  to  his  fellow  creatures,  and  there  is  no  danger  that 
the  desires,  thus  subordinated,  will  be  in  excess.  But  the 
moment  he  pursues  them,  I  will  not  say  with  some  refer- 
ence to  self,  for  God  intended  we  should  provide  for  our- 
selves, but  the  moment  he  pursues  them  selfishly,  the  ser- 
vant becomes  the  master  and  slavery  begins. 

And  here,  too,  there  is  made  a  great  and  general  mis- 
take. The  ends  proposed  by  the  desires,  instead  of  being 
held  subordinate,  become  ultimate,  and  thus  the  desires 
become  the  main  spring  of  activity  and  the  basis  of  charac- 
ter. We  all  know  how  each  of  the  desires  creates  for  itself 
a  world  of  activity,  in  which  it  becomes  not  only  the  per- 
vading, but  too  often  the  dominant  principle ;  and  when 
this  is  so,  man  seeks  to  balance  himself  and  society  upon 
a  false  centre,  and  can  never  be  at  rest. 

In  the  world  of  business  the  desire  of  wealth  rules,  and 
in  the  eager  pursuit  of  this  the  vision  of  its  votaries  be- 
comes narrowed,  so  that  they  see  and  care  for  nothing  else. 
The  fraudulent  man,  the  rum-seller,  the  slave-trader,  the 
panderer  to  appetite,  the  inexorable  landlord,  have,  it  may 
be,  no  malignity,  but  in  the  intenseness  of  this  desire,  they 
bow  so  eagerly  to  the  god  of  their  idolatry  that  they  see  not 
the  scattered  wrecks  of  property  and  of  character  strewed 


56  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

around  them,  and  hear  not  the  wail  of  distress  that  comes 
up  from  fathers  and  mothers  agonized,  and  from  wives  and 
children  made  desolate.  They  hear  but  the  cry  of  this 
desire,  saying,  Give,  give,  and  all  the  better  forms  of  intel- 
lectual and  moral  life  are  contemned  and  wither  away,  and 
their  hearts  become  as  the  nether  millstone. 

In  the  world  of  fashion  it  is  the  desire  of  admiration 
that  reigns.  The  value  of  dress  as  a  necessary  and  a  com- 
fort, becomes  subordinate  to  that  which  it  receives  from  the 
eyes  of  others,  and  from  the  position  it  is  supposed  to  give. 
Health  and  comfort  are  disregarded.  Each  desires  to  be- 
come a  receiving  centre,  and  the  party,  the  ball,  tlie  assem- 
bly, where  they  have  been  admired,  and  especially  more 
admired  than  others,  has  been  a  pleasant  party  or  ball  or 
assembly  to  them.  It  is  in  this  sphere  that  vanity,  self- 
complacent,  yet  meanly  dependent  and  apprehensive,  finds 
its  food.  Here  every  thing  is  on  the  basis  of  receiving, 
and  this  gives  it  its  heartless  and  unsatisfying  character. 
Even  all  copartnerships  for  mutual  admiration,  whether  be- 
tween individuals  or  in  regular  societies,  give,  only  that 
they  may  receive  as  much  again. 

In  the  world  of  ambition  the  desire  of  power  is  supreme. 
No  tics  of  kindred,  no  obligations  of  fiiith  and  sacred  honor, 
no  pleadings  of  humanity,  no  fear  of  a  righteous  retribution, 
can  stay  the  course  of  him  who  has  once  entered  the  lists 
for  this  glittering  prize.  Reckless  and  remorseless  as  a 
cannon-shot,  he  moves  towards  his  object,  shattering  and 
prostrating  every  thing  in  his  way.  '^The  land  is  as  the 
garden  of  Eden  before  him,  and  behind  him  a  desolate  wil- 
derness." A  miser  of  power,  if  he  is  less  despicable  than 
the  miser  of  wealth,  it  is  only  because  he  is  more  formida- 
ble ;  for  though  he  may  be  admired  by  the  unthinking,  he 
is  yet  equally  false  to  his  nature,  and  to  the  true  ends  of 
life.     He  may  be  a  battle-axe  in  the  hand  of  the  Almighty 


RECEIVING  AND    GIVING. 


57 


to  punish  the  nations,  but  a  true  man^  knowing  his  Maker, 
and  voluntarily  co-operating  with  him,  he  cannot  be. 

And  what  is  true  of  the  desires  thus  specified,  is  true 
of  them  all.  The  slightest  knowledge  of  them  will  show 
that  they  cannot  be  the  basis  of  either  individual  or  social 
happiness.  The  isolated  summits  which  they  would  reach 
are  glittering  and  attractive  at  a  distance,  but  there  is  there 
no  spring  of  water  for  the  thirsty  soul,  and  no  green  thing. 
Their  constitution  is>  such  that  they  grow  by  what  they  feed 
on,  never  reaching,  like  the  bodily  appetites,  a  limit  of  sati- 
ety. "  He  that  coveteth  silver  shall  not  be  satisfied  with 
silver."  He  that  conquers  one  world,  will  weep  that  there 
is  not  another  for  him  to  conquer.  Hence  a  character 
which  has  the  desires  for  its  basis,  must  be  hard,  and  dry, 
and  unamiable,  and  selfish ;  and  the  individual  must  be 
restless  and  unhappy.  As,  too,  the  desires  are  appropri- 
ating and  necessarily  exclusive,  if  they  are  the  basis  of ' 
character  in  the  community  generally,  it  must  become  the 
theatre  of  a  general  conflict,  in  which  every  malignant  pas- 
sion and  dissocial  element  will  mingle,  and  society  will  be 
dissolved  into  its  original  elements. 

But  with  the  affections,  the  reverse  of  all  this  is  true. 
In  their  exercise,  we  find  ultimate  ends  that  are  legitimate ; 
nor  is  there  in  them  any  tendency  to  excess  and  dispropor- 
tion from  their  own  activity.  They  arise  from  an  appre- 
hension of  some  worth  or  worthiness  in  the  person  towards 
whom  they  go  forth  ;  and  the  only  danger  is,  that  the  im- 
agination will  clothe  their  object  in  false  colors.  Let  the 
person  be  seen  as  he  is,  and  the  measure  of  his  worth,  or  of 
his  worthiness,  is  the  natural  measure  and  limit  of  the  affec- 
tion ;  and  in  this  there  can  be  nothing  exaggerated  or  ex- 
cessive. If  the  object  be  greatly  worthy,  the  affection 
ought  to  be  great;  and  the  greater  the  aff"ection,  the 
greater  the  blessedness.      Among  the  highest  forms  of 


58 


RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 


blessedness  conceivable  by  us,  is  that  of  a  perfect  affection 
resting  with  full  complacency  upon  a  worthy  object. 

But  if  the  individual  will  thus  be  made  happy  through 
the  affections,  much  more  will  society.  This  scarcely  needs 
to  be  shown.  The  affections  are  not  only  the  true  bond 
of  society,  the  only  element  and  sure  guarantee  of  peace, 
but  as  burning  coals  burn  more  brightly  when  brought 
together,  so  must  there  be  intenser  blessedness  where  the 
affections  are  drawn  out  by  intimate  and  complex  social 
relations. 

From  what  has  been  said  under  this  head,  it  would  ap- 
pear that  to  give,  is  to  put  forth  power  under  the  guidance 
of  love.  In  doing  this,  there  will  be  a  union  of  the  activ- 
ities with  the  affections.  Hence  giving  is  the  culminating 
point,  the  blending  and  fusion  of  those  activities  and  affec- 
tions which  we  have  shown  to  be  the  two  highest  sources 
of  human  blessedness.  If,  therefore,  we  will  but  notice  it 
we  shall  find,  as  was  already  said,  that  it  is  enstamped 
upon  our  constitution — that  it  grows  out  of  the  very  frame- 
work of  our  being,  that  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive. 

I  cannot  leave  the  discussion  under  this  head  without 
observing,  that  we  may  gather  from  it  the  limit  and  law  of 
all  our  receiving  faculties  in  their  relation  to  those  that 
give, — of  all  receptivity  in  its  relation  to  activity.  It  is 
that  that  only  should  be  received,  which  will  enable  us  to 
give ;  that  the  limit  of  receptivity  should  be  the  point 
where  it  ceases  to  minister  to  activity. 

This  gives  us  the  law  of  temperance  in  all  things — its 
universal  law.  Nature  is  not  arbitrary,  or  capricious,  or 
cynical.  We  are  at  liberty  to  receive  into  the  body  any- 
thing, and  in  any  quantity,  that  will,  on  the  whole,  best 
minister  to  the  strength  and  activity  of  the  body.  The  mis- 
take of  intemperate  men,  of  every  degree,  is  to  receive  for 


RECEIVING  AND   GIVING.  ^g 

the  sake  of  passive  impression  those  things  which  depress 
and  injure  the  powers  of  activity.  The  student  is  at  hberty 
to  receive  into  his  mind  as  much  iDromiscuous  reading,  and 
to  hear  as  many  lectures,  as  will  give  him  the  most  active 
and  vigorous  mental  powers.  Let  him  read  as  much  as 
he  will,  provided  it  be  assimilated,  and  there  be  nothing 
of  the  crudities  or  tumidity  of  mental  indigestion.  Let 
the  desires  stretch  forth  their  arms  as  they  may,  and 
gather  wealth  and  admiration  and  power,  provided  there  be 
nothing  gathered  to  be  hoarded  and  gloated  upon  and 
worshipped ;  and  that  the  disposition  to  communicate  go 
hand  in  hand  with  the  ability,  and  thus  the  great  law  of 
stewardship  come  in,  and  every  man,  as  he  has  received, 
be  a  good  steward  of  the  manifold  grace  of  God. 

It  is,  indeed,  in  this  relation  and  law  of  receiving  and 
giving,  that  we  find  the  true  ground  of  the  suboi"lination 
of  different  enjoyments,  and  the  true  theory  of  human  well- 
being.  This  last  consists,  essentially,  in  the  right  activity 
of  the  powers.  The  right  activity  of  her  powers,  is  that 
which  makes  the  King's  daughter  all  glorious  within  ;  and 
if  this  be  so,  the  King  will  see  that  her  clothing  shall  be 
of  wrought  gold.  For  the  completeness  and  fulness  of 
well-being,  there  is  indeed  not  only  the  inward  harmony 
and  joy,  but  the  investment  and  regalia  of  a  world  with- 
out, that  shall  testify  through  every  sense  and  susceptibil- 
ity to  the  sympathy  and  approbation  of  Him  by  whom 
that  world  was  organized  and  is  sustained.  We  reject 
not,  nor  undervalue  the  investment  j  but  we  find  in  this 
law  a  necessity,  that  he  who  would  attain  true  blessedness 
at  all,  should  make  the  basis  of  his  character  the  activities 
and  the  affections,  and  not,  as  the  many  do,  the  sensibil- 
ites  and  the  desires.  In  the  prevalent  type  of  character, 
reason  and  conscience  and  the  affections  are  subordinated 
to  some  one  of  the  desires,  pleasure  being  pursued  so  far 


6o  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

as  may  be  compatible  with  that.  But  if  true  blessedness 
is  to  be  attained,  this  order  must  be  reversed  ;  and  the 
love  that  gives,  sustained  by  reason  and  conscience  must 
take  the  place  of  the  desires  that  would  receive  ;  and  all 
mere  pleasure,  all  desire  for  passive  impression,  must 
give  way  when  love,  so  sustained,  shall  call  for  active 
exertion. 

I  have  thus  illustrated,  as  I  was  able,  the  weighty  and 
comprehensive  saying  of  our  Saviour,  that  "  it  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive  ;  "  and  we  find  it  confirm- 
ed by  the  example  of  God  himself;  by  the  mute  teachings 
of  his  works  ;  and  by  the  best  examination  we  can  make 
of  the  constitution  of  man  in  its  relation  to  the  modes  and 
kinds  of  possible  enjoyment.  The  essential  elements,  of 
giving  are  power  and  love — activity  and  affection, — and 
the  consciousness  of  the  race  testifies  that  in  the  high  and 
approprate  exercise  of  these  there  is  a  blessedness  great- 
er than  any  other. 

And  what  is  thus  taught  by  precept  and  confirmed  by 
philosophy  and  by  consciousness,  it  is  most  pleasing  to 
find  perfectly  illustrated  by  example.  With  the  interpre- 
tation now  given,  it  could  not  be  more  perfectly  illustrated 
than  it  was  by  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles.  He  "  loved  us 
and  gave  himself  for  us."  He  saw  that  the  world  was  in 
such  a  state,  that  by  giving  himself  he  could  save  men  ;  and 
with  the  full  knowledge  of  what  was  before  him,  the  poverty, 
the  reproaches,  the  buffetings,  the  mockings,  the  scourging, 
the  crucifixion,  he  gave  himself  freely.  This  he  did  in  the 
conscious  exercise  of  power.  He  had  power  to  lay  down 
his  life,  and  he  had  power  to  take  it  again.  He  gave,  not  as 
\  he  gives  whom  giving  does  not  impoverish,  but  he  gave  of 
hib  heart's  blood  till  that  heart  ceased  to  beat.  He  planted 
his  cross  in  the  midst  of  the  mad  and  roaring  current  of 
selfishness  aggravated  to  malignity  and  uttered  from  it 


RECEIVING   AND   GIVING.  6l 

the  mighty  cry  of  expiring  love.  ,  And  the  waters  heard 
him,  and  from  that  moment  they  began  to  be  refluent 
about  his  cross.  From  that  moment,  a  current  deeper 
and  broader,  and  mightier,  began  to  set  heavenward,  and  it 
will  continue  to  be  deeper  and  broader,  and  mightier  till 
its  glad  waters  shall  encompass  the  earth,  and  toss  them- 
selves as  the  ocean.  And  not  alone  did  earth  hear  that 
cry.  It  pierced  the  regions  of  immensity.  Heaven  heard 
it,  and  hell  heard  it,  and  the  remotest  star  shall  hear  it. 
testifying  to  the  love  of  God  in  his  unspeakable  gift,  and 
to  the  supremacy  of  that  blessedness  of  giving  which  could 
be  reached  only  through  death— the  death  of  the  cross. 
This  joy  of  giving  it  was  that  was  set  before  him,  for 
which  he  endured  the  cross  despising  the  shame. 

And  not  only  did  our  Saviour  exemplify  this  precept, 
but  also  his  Apostles.  They  were  first  receivers  and  then 
givers.  They  filled  their  urns  at  the  fountain  of  light  and 
power,  and  then  rayed  these  forth  with  an  energy  that 
made  them  the  great  benefactors  of  the  race.  Standing 
simply  as  men,  without  wealth,  or  power,  or  learning,  or 
genius,  they  gave  their  being  in  its  entireness  to  the  dif- 
fusion among  men  of  God's  method  of  salvation,  and  thus 
took  their  stand  at  the  head  of  the  mightiest  moral  move- 
ment the  world  has  ever  seen.  Nor  have  they  failed  to 
have  successors  in  men  of  a  like  spirit,  faithful,  self-deny- 
ing, ready  at  any  moment  to  seal  their  testimony  with 
their  blood.  All  down  the  ages  there  have  been  those 
who  have  given,  not  property  only,  but  themselves,  to  this 
cause  of  God  and  of  man. 

My  dear  Friends.  I  would  that  you  should  be  givers. 
To  you  the  exhortation  comes  with  peculiar  appropriate- 
ness, "  Freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give."  You  have 
received    from    God    high    endowments— not    merely   the 


62  RECEIVING  AND   GIVING. 

susceptibilities  of  the  animal,  by  which  you  are  capable  of 
pleasure,  but  the  powers  of  the  angel,  by  which  you  are 
capable  of  an  eternal  blessedness — not  merely,the  desires 
which  would  grasp  and  appropriate  their  objects,  but  also 
atfections  by  which  you  may  give  love  and  its  fruits,  volun- 
tarily joining  hands  in  that  line  of  receiving  and  giving 
which  begins  at  the  throne  of  God  and  terminates  only 
with  animate  being.  You  have  received  a  country,  vast, 
prosperous,  progressive,  whose  future  towers  up  into  an 
undefined  magnificence.  Freely  you  have  received  the 
heritage  of  free  institutions  bought  with  blood,  for  which 
the  nations  of  the  old  world  sigh  in  vain.  Above  all,  you 
have  received  "  freedom  to  worship  God,"  and  a  knowledge 
of  the  way  of  life  and  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  O  ye  plants  in  the  very  garden  of  the  Lord,  have 
ye  thus  received  his  rain  and  his  sunshine,  and  shall  ye 
not  yield  fruit  ?  Shall  there  be  among  you  one  empty  vine, 
bringing  forth  fruit  unto  himself;  one  frivolous,  pleasure- 
loving,  self-seeking,  world-worshipping  idolater  ?  Are  you 
not  satisfied  that  the  law  of  giving  is  the  true  law  of  our 
being  ?  And  do  you  not  see  how  hopeless  it  must  be  to 
go  against  those  deep  tendencies  which  God  has  wrought 
into  our  frame — that  to  strike  against  the  adamant  of  his 
laws  is  to  be  dashed  in  pieces?"  *' Freely  ye  have 
received,  freely  give."  Poor  you  may  be,  and  many  of  you 
are,  in  the  riches  of  this  world.  But  there  is  a  giving 
higher  than  that  decorous  giving  that  meets  public  expec- 
tation, but  not  the  requirements  of  good  stewardship  ; 
there  is  a  giving  higher  than  that  of  wealth  to  any  extent. 
The  time  has  come  when  a  man  is  "  more  precious  than 
fine  gold  ;  even  a  man,  than  the  golden  wedge  of  Ophir." 
Give  yourselves,  give  as  Christ  gave,  as  the  Apostles  gave. 
Pierce  to  the  kernel  those  Christians  paradoxes,  that  we 
save  by  loosing,  and  live  by  dying,  and  receive  by  giving. 


RECEIVING  AND   GIVING.  63 

Go  where  duty  calls,  where  there  is  ignorance  to  be  en- 
lightened, suffering  to  be  relieved,  vice  to  be  reclaimed, 
character  to  be  improved.  These  are  works  which  must 
be  done  by  living  men.  Wealth  alone  cannot  do  them  ; 
the  labors  of  the  dead  past  cannot  do  them.  It  is  not  the 
touch  of  the  bones  of  a  dead  Prophet  that  can  give  moral 
life.  In  every  age  it  is  a  sympathizing  love  that  must 
stretch  itself  upon  the  body  of  this  death,  and  then  it  will 
live.  So  give,  and  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus  "  you 
shall  receive  a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away." 


IV. 

PERFECT   LOVE. 
Perfect  love  casteth  out  fear,— i  John,  iv.  i8. 

THE  happiness  which  men  seek,  is  not  like  gold 
which,  when  once  found,  can  be  kept ;  it  is  the 
result  of  some  activity  ;  it  must  cease  when  that  activity 
ceases;  and  the  happiness  that  is  highest  and  best, 
can  spring  only  from  the  activity  of  those  faculties  tha. 
are  highest  and  best.  Here  is  the  true  theory  of  human 
happiness.  With  all  normal  activity,  God  has  connected 
enjoyment;  and  the  more  exalted  the  faculties,  and  the 
more  intense  the  activity,  the  higher  the  enjoyment.  If 
then  the  highest  happiness  can  come  only  from  those 
faculties,  or  forms  of  activity,  that  are  highest  and  best,' it 
becomes  a  paramount  question  what  those  faculties  are. 

The  general  modes  of  activity  are  three.  We  think, 
we  feel,  we  will.  The  will,  however,  need  not  be  consi- 
dered here,  because  it  is  a  means  of  good  only  through 
thought  and  emotion.  Aside  from  mere  sensitive  good, 
it  is  from  thought  and  emotion  that  all  willing  springs, 
and  it  is  to  thought  and  emotion  that  it  ministers.  We 
have,  then,  in  seeking  for  the  immediate  sources  of  enjoy- 
ment not  sensitive,  to  compare  only  our  intellectual  and 
emotive  nature  ;  and  our  first  inquiry  is.  What  is  the  rela- 
tive rank  of  the  intellect  and  the  emotions  } 

It  has  been  the  tendency  of  the  world,  and  especially 
of  students,  to  exalt  the  intellect.     Under  this,  all  agree 

*♦*  August  15,  1855. 


PERFECT   LOVE.  55 

in  including  our  perceiving  and  reasoning  powers  ;  and  1 
would  also  include  our  powers  of  intuition,  and  of  com- 
prehension. These,  especially  those  of  intuitive  reason 
and  comprehension,  are  high  powers.  By  them  we  are 
made  in  the  image  of  God,  we  become  partakers  of  his 
thoughts  and  purposes,  and  are  enabled  intelligently  to 
serve  him.  They  place  us  in  the  same  rank  as  the  angels, 
and  involve  the  capacity,  and  thus  the  implied  promise 
of  an  indefinite  progression.  In  their  exercise,  there  is  a 
consciousness  of  inherent  and  native  dignity  that  sets  us 
apart  from  the  brutes  that  perish. 

Connected  with  the  activity  of  the  intellect  there  is 
naturally  an  appropriate  and  a  high  enjoyment,  that  still 
has  no  name  as  a  specific  emotion.  Its  wheels  do  not 
creak  and  complain,  as  they  revolve  ;  they  sing.  Doubt- 
less there  might  have  been  a  cold  and  unimpassioned  per- 
ception, a  merely  dry  insight  and  comprehension  ;  but  we 
are  not  so  made.  "  It  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  behold  the 
sun;"  it  is  pleasant  to  perceive  and  trace  relations,  to 
discover  or  follow  an  argument ;  all  insight  and  compre- 
hension are  pleasant.  Shall  we  then  say  that  the  pleasure 
thus  received  is  itself  an  emotion  ?  In  its  widest  sense, 
we  may  ;  but  not  thus  can  we  practically  discuss  this  sub- 
ject. The  pleasure  connected  with  the  mere  activity  of 
the  faculties,  is  one  thing ;  the  specific  emotions,  as  of 
admiration,  beauty,  sublimity,  which  depend  on  the  activity 
of  the  faculties  under  certain  circumstances,  are  another; 
and  there  is  plainly  no  fixed  ratio  between  perception  or 
comprehension  on  the  one  hand,  and  any  specific  emotion 
on  the  other.  There  are  those  with  great  powers  of 
insight  who  feel  little  admiration  ;  who  can  stand  before 
beautiful  and  sublime  objects  with  but  slight  emotion. 
An  astronomer  may  weigh  a  planet,  or  measure  its  orbit, 
or  cast  an  eclipse,  with  as  little   admiration  as  a  shop- 


66  PERFECT  LOVE. 

keeper  would  weigh  a  pound  of  sugar,  or  measure  a  yard 
of  cloth,  or  cast  up  his  day-book  ;  while  a  person  with  but 
little  insight,  knowing  nothing  but  facts  and  results,  may 
contemplate  the  heavens  with  constant  admiration  and 
delight.  We  even  hear  of  the  cold  philosopher ;  as  if 
there  were  some  incompatibility  between  intellect  and 
emotion  •  and  we  constantly  observe  the  greatest  variety 
in  the  intensity  of  emotion,  when  persons  are  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  same  beautiful  or  sublime  objects.  It  is  true 
that  all  elevated  and  worthy  emotion  must  depend  on  the 
intellect ;  yet  so  distinct  are  they,  that  we  may  cultivate 
the  intellect  exclusively,  and  repress  the  emotions ;  or  we 
may  riot  in  emotion,  while  the  intellect  is  comparatively 
neglected. 

But  since  both  intellect  and  feeling  are  essential  parts 
of  our  being  ;  since  thought  is  the  condition  of  feeling,  and 
feeling  stimulates  thought ;  it  may  be  asked,  how  we  are 
to  decide  their  relative  rank.  This  we  can  do,  as  in  all 
other  systems  of  related  parts  that  have  reference  to  an 
end.  In  these,  that  which  precedes  as  a  condition  and  a 
means,  is  subordinate  to  that  which  is  accomplished  as  an 
end.  Hence,  that  the  intellect  is  subordinate,  appears 
from  the  very  fact  that  it  is  the  condition  and  basis  of  the 
emotions,  and  that  they  are  later  in  the  order  of  nature  and 
of  time.  In  the  order  of  creation,  and  of  all  individual 
development, 

"Time's  noblest  ofifspring  is  the  last." 

Man,  in  whom  all  other  things  are  epitomized  and  culmi- 
nate, came  last;  and  that  in  him  which  is  highest  and 
noblest,  the  powers  of  reflection  and  of  reason,  with  their 
consequent  emotions,  also  come  last  to  perfection.  In  the 
vegetable,  the  fruit  and  the  flower  come  last,  and  all  that 
precedes  is  conditional  for  these.     Emotion  is,  indeed,  as 


PERFECT   LOVE.  6^ 

the  flower  lo  the  stalk,  as  the  fruit  to  the  flower.  It  is  the 
verdure,  that  clothes  the  skeleton  trees  ;  it  is  the  expres- 
sion, that  lives  and  glows  upon  features  otherwise  rigid  and 
motionless  ;  it  is  the  sweet-smelling  savor  of  every  accept- 
able offering,  that  is  laid  upon  the  altar  of  God's  service 
or  of  the  service  of  man  ;  it  is  the  incense  that  should  go 
up  as  a  cloud  from  this  world  of  marvels  and  of  beauty. 
To  say  that  there  is  no  happiness  without  emotion  in  some 
form,  seems  hardly  adequate.  It  might  be  nearer  the  truth 
to  say,  that  it  is  happiness — for  what  do  we  know  of  hap- 
piness, except  as  an  emotion  ?  And  yet  there  is  no  dis- 
tinct emotion  of  happiness  that  is  known  by  that  name,  and 
that  can  be  distinguished  from  those  several  emotions  by 
which  it  is  enwrapped,  and  which  it  perfumes. 

The  emotive  nature  of  man,  thus  preeminent,  has  a 
wide  range ;  and  we  next  inquire  what  it  is  in  that  that  is 
highest  and  best. 

In  perceiving  external  nature,  every  degree  and  kind 
of  perception  has  its  emotion,  from  the  faintest  whisper  of 
beauty,  sublimity,  admiration,  delight,  to  their  highest 
notes.  It  is,  however,  only  when  we  pass  to  sentient  and 
rational  beings,  that  the  emotions  take  the  name  of  affec- 
tions, and  swell  and  surge  in  the  passions.  Here  it  is  that 
we  find  love  ;  but  in  assigning  its  rank,  we  must  make  some 
discriminations. 

From  the  poverty  of  language,  things  but  remotely  re- 
lated to  each  other  are  often  indicated  by  the  same  word. 
So  it  is  with  love.  In  its  broadest  sense,  it  indicates  the 
tendency  of  beings  capable  of  enjoyment  toward  that  in 
which  their  enjoyment  is  found,  whatever  it  may  be.  It 
includes  all  animal  appetencies  and  instinctive  affections, 
as  well  as  that  attachment  which  has  its  primal  seat  in  the 
will,  and  involves  rational  and  moral  elements.  The  ox 
is  said  to  love   the  grass,  the  mother  bird  its  young,  the 


68  PERFECT  LOVE. 

ambitious  man  loves  fame,  the  miser  loves  money,  and  the 
seraph  loves  God.  It  is  used  to  express  the  purest  affec- 
tions of  spiritual  beings,  and  to  sanctify  the  grossest  and 
most  criminal  passions.  Like  "fitness,"  it  is  used  to  ex- 
press a  general  relation,  and  not  the  nature  of  the  things 
related  ;  and  the  attraction  of  gravitation  is  not  more  un- 
like that  of  two  loving  hearts,  than  are  some  of  the  differ- 
ent forms  of  what  is  called  love,  from  each  other.  But  that 
perfect  love  that  casteth  out  fear  has  no  connection  with 
appetite,  or  passion,  or  instinct,  or  anything  sensitive ; 
but  springs  wholly  from  our  rational  and  moral  nature,  and 
is  drawn  forth  wholly  by  that  which  is  rational  and  moral. 
It  is  the  love  of  man  for  the  spiritual  and  unseen  Creator. 
It  is  love,  not  as  an  instinctive  tendency,  or  a  mere  affection, 
but  as  a  principle.  There  is  in  it  a  rational  apprehension 
of  both  worth  and  worthiness,  an  act  of  choice  and  commit- 
ment, and  that  peculiar  and  strong  and  undefinable  emo- 
tion which  connects  itself  with  this  act,  and  which  is  modi- 
fied by  the  characteristics  and  character  of  the  being  loved. 
These  may  be  distinguished  from  each  other,  but  they  can- 
not be  separated  and  the  love  remain.  It  is  their  union 
that  constitutes  the  one  substantial  and  working  principle 
that  we  call  love,  as  it  is  the  union  of  oxygen  and  hydrogen 
that  constitutes  water  ;  and  it  is  this  fusion  of  the  intellect 
and  the  affections,  that  is  called  "  love  "  in  the  text.  This 
is  the  highest  form  of  human,  and  we  may  say,  of  rational 
activity.  The  light  of  the  intellect  is  cold  and  cheerless  ; 
it  is  the  warmth  of  love  that  brings  out  the  verdure,  and 
awakens  the  voice  of  the  swelling  song.  This  is  the  high 
and  pure  principle  by  which  we  are  drawn  toward  all  that 
is  capable  of  happiness  in  its  proper  sense,  by  which  we  are 
not  only  attracted  toward  all  that  is  amiable  and  generous 
and  ])ure  and  holy  in  character,  but  by  which  we  abide 
steadfast  in  our  attachments.     It  is   the   highest  form  of 


PERFECT   LOVE.  69 

activity  drawn  out  by  the  highest  objects.  Taken  with  the 
happiness  which  it  enfolds,  which  pervades  and  forms  a 
part  of  it,  it  is  the  highest  result,  the  brightness,  the  crown 
and  consummation  of  the  works  of  God — nay,  it  is  the  great 
mode  of  activity  and  ground  of  happiness  in  God  himself. 
*'  God  is  love,  and  he  that  dwelleth  in  love,  dwelleth  in 
God,  and  God  in  him."  "He  that  loveth  not,  knoweth 
not  God." 

But  perhaps  we  may  best  gain  a  conception  of  the  true 
rank  and  functions  of  love,  from  the  agencies  of  nature 
which  are  required  as  its  symbols.  No  one  of  these  is 
adequate.  To  symbolize  it  fully,  requires  the  three  great 
elements  or  agents,  on  which  all  enjoyment,  and  life,  and 
order  depend. 

Of  these,  the  first  is  light,  which  represents  the  intel- 
lectual element  in  love.  How  grand  a  symbol  is  this 
all-encompassing,  all-revealing  element !  It  gives  to  the 
earth  and  heavens  all  their  beauty  and  glory.  Without  it, 
the  distant  universe  would  be  to  us  as  though  it  were  not. 
This  is  the  only  symbol  of  that  conscious  certainty  and 
satisfying  knowledge,  without  which  all  affection  is  de- 
graded to  an  instinct.  But  as  there  may  be  and  is,  know- 
ledge without  love,  as  light  without  warmth,  we  will  not 
dwell  upon  this. 

The  second  great  element  needed  to  symbolize  love,  is 
heat.  Not  chiefly  as  concentrated  in  fire,  or  as  radiating 
immediately  from  it,  is  heat  known  as  a  beneficent  agent. 
It  pervades  all  matter,  giving  fluidity  to  water,  to  the  sap 
of  vegetables,  to  the  blood  of  animals,  quickening  every 
seed  that  germinates,  and  is  an  indispensable  condition  of 
all  life.  Without  it  the  universe  would  be  solidified  in 
eternal  frost,  and  motionless  in  death.  But  suppose,  now, 
there  were  in  this  universe  no  warmth  of  aflection,  no 
throb  of  kindness  in  any  heart;  that  God  himself  were,  as 


70  PERFECT  LOVE. 

some  would  make  him,  but  an  iceberg  of  intellect,  chilling 
the  universe,  and  that  men  were  made  in  his  image ;  and 
there  would  be  a  frost  and  a  death,  which  the  withdrawal 
of  its  vital  heat  from  the  frame  of  nature  could  but  faintly 
shadow  forth.  Not  one  pulsation  of  love  in  the  universe ! 
How  awful  the  desolation !  But  where  love  is,  all  icy 
chains  are  dissolved,  all  dormant  life  is  quickened,  every 
rivulet  sings,  every  flower  opens  its  petals,  and  to  breathe 
is  to  be  happy.  An  intelligent  love  is  the  blended  light 
and  warmth  that  gives  to  all  things  in  the  spiritual  world 
their  life  and  beauty. 

But  not  less  essential  in  nature  than  light  and  warmth, 
nor  less  perfect  as  a  symbol,  is  another  power  that  per- 
vades the  universe,  and  binds  all  nature  together.  This 
is  the  power  of  attraction.  It  shows  itself  in  various 
forms,  now  uniting  the  particles  of  smaller  masses  in  the 
embrace  of  a  cohesion  which  no  force  can  sever,  and  now 
binding  together  families  of  worl'ds  as  they  pay  homage  to 
their  centre,  and  move  on  with  reciprocal  attraction  and 
seeming  affection  in  the  fields  of  space.  Without  this, 
particle  would  be  loosed  from  particle,  and  world  from 
world.  The  earth,  the  planets,  the  sun,  the  fixed  stars 
would  be  sifted  into  space,  and  would  disappear.  Not  a 
spot  where  the  foot  might  tread  would  remain  in  the  uni- 
verse. And  this  does  but  represent  the  uniting  and  har- 
monizing power  of  love,  in  an  intelligent  and  moral  sys- 
tem. Within  a  limited  range,  and  under  higher  control,  a 
system  of  balanced  selfishness  may  move  on  for  a  time  ; 
but  as  a  great  uniting  principle,  that  will  hold  every  indi- 
vidual in  his  place  and  sphere,  and  work  out  any  rational 
good,  nothing  but  love  can  be  imagined.  This  only  can 
unite  the  family,  the  church,  the  state.  Only  this  can 
insure  harmony  among  nations,  only  this  can  bind  the 
creature  to  the  throne  of  the  Creator.     With  a  God  thus 


PERFECT  LOVE.  7 1 

enthroned  and  reigning  by  love,  and  every  rank  and  order 
of  being  walking  his  circuit  by  the  attraction  of  love,  not 
merely  around  the  throne  of  God,  but  around  all  those 
social  and  governmental  centres  which  God  has  ordained, 
we  have  moral  order,  the  only  order  that  can  be  perma- 
nent, or  that  has  intrinsic  worth. 

The  union  thus  of  three,  and  perhaps  even  of  two  great 
elements  in  nature,  as  the  symbol  of  a  principle  or  mode 
of  activity  in  the  spiritual  world,  is  entirely  without  exam- 
ple. Of  these  three  great  elements  and  forces,  the  sun  is, 
in  our  system,  the  centre.  From  him  goes  forth  the  light, 
from  him  the  warmth,  from  him  chiefly,  though  it  be  re- 
ciprocal, the  attraction.  What  a  fountain  of  radiance  ! 
How  does  that  radiance  stream  forth  as  in  genial  mar- 
riage with  the  vitalizing  heat !  What  a  centre,  we  might 
almost  say,  of  loving  attraction  !  And  when  we  look  at 
the  splendor  and  pervasiveness  of  these  elemental  forces, 
at  their  gentle,  yet  ceaseless  and  resistless  agency,  and  at 
their  results  in  the  sphere  of  matter,  we  may  form  a  con- 
ception of  the  place  which  that  love  must  hold  in  a  moral 
and  spiritual  system  which  can  be  symbolized  only  by  all 
of  these  ;  and  we  may  realize  more  fully  the  grandeur  and 
force  of  those  most  simple,  yet  most  sublime  expressions 
of  the  Bible,  "  God  is  a  Sun,"  and,  ^'God  is  Love." 

It  is  to  this  great  principle  of  love,  thus  shown  to  be 
the  highest  form  of  human,  and  indeed  of  rational  activity, 
that  I  would  now  call  your  especial  attention.  It  is  of 
this,  that  I  desire  you  should  become  radiating  centres  ;  it 
is  under  the  control  of  this,  as  flowing  out  from  the  great 
centre  of  all,  that  I  desire  you  should  fully  come.  In  order 
to  this,  then,  let  us  consider  first,  what  it  is  that  love  must 
exclude. 

And  here  I  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  love  would 
exclude   fear.     "Perfect   love   casteth   out   fear."     It  i^f* 


72  PERFECT  LOVE. 

chiefly  in  fear,  and  not  without  reason,  that  the  son  of 
Sirach  makes  that  "  great  travail "  to  consist,  which  he 
says  "  is  created  for  every  man,  and  that  heavy  yoke  which 
is  upon  the  sons  of  Adam,  from  the  day  that  they  go  out 
of  their  motlier's  womb,  till  the  day  that  they  return  to  the 
mother  of  all  things."  "Their  imagination  of  things  to 
come,"  says  he,  "  and  the  day  of  death,  trouble  their 
thoughts,  and  cause  fear  of  heart ;  from  him  that  sitteth 
on  a  throne  of  glory,  unto  him  that  is  humbled  in  earth 
and  ashes  ;  from  him  that  weareih  purple  and  a  crown, 
unto  him  that  is  clothed  with  a  linen  frock."  How  then 
may  fear  be  removed  1  Its  opposite  is  commonly  said  to 
be  hope,  and  it  is  by  this  that  most  would  attempt  to  ex- 
orcise this  spectre.  But  the  philosophy  of  the  Bible  is 
profounder  than  this.  Hope  is  so  far  from  being  the  op- 
posite of  fear,  that  it  implies  it.  So  long  as  there  is  that 
want  of  certainty  which  hope  implies,  there  must  be  some 
lingerings  of  fear.  Nor  is  it  all  love  that  can  cast  out 
fear.  On  the  contrary,  much  of  our  love  tends  to  increase 
and  multiply  our  fears.  The  more  objects  of  affection  we 
have  in  a  world  like  this,  and  the  more  tenderly  we  love 
them,  the  more  open  we  are  to  suffering,  and  the  more 
ground  we  have  to  fear.  It  is  only  the  love  of  God  as  a 
Father,  involving  perfect  confidence  in  his  wisdom  and 
goodness,  and  almightiness,  that  can  stay  the  risings  of 
distrust  and  apprehension.  This,  a  perfect  filial  love  not 
only  can,  but  must  so  do,  that  all  fear  shall  flee  away,  as 
the  mists  of  the  morning  before  the  sun.  To  him  who 
loves  thus^  God  will  be  a  "  refuge  and  strength."  He 
need  not,  and  he  will  not  fear,  "  though  the  earth  be 
removed,  and  though  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the 
midst  of  the  sea." 

And  not  only  would  perfect  love  exclude  fear,  but  also 
hate.     This  it  does  toward  the  being  loved,  by  the  very 


PERFECT  LOVE.  73 

force  of  the  terms.  But  he  who  has  a  perfect  love  of  God, 
can  have  no  more  hatred  of  any  of  his  creatures,  than  God 
himself  has.  He  may — from  the  very  fact  of  his  loving  a 
moral  quality,  he  must — have  a  strong  hatred  of  its  oppo- 
site ;  but  in  that  there  will  be  no  corroding  passion,  no  ma- 
lignity, which  alone  is  properly  hate,  and  in  which  alone,  and 
in  remorse,  is  there  involved  essential  misery.  As  love  is 
pervaded  by  an  inseparable  happiness  which,  as  an  origi- 
nal part  of  it,  emanates  from  it,  as  the  fragrance  from  the 
flower,  or  the  light  from  the  sun ;  so  malignity  is  pervaded 
by  an  inseparable  and  an  inevitable  misery.  This  ele- 
ment love  would  exclude  ;  and  thus,  under  its  sway,  both 
fear  and  hate,  those  two  great  foes  of  human  good,  would 
disappear. 

Once  more.  The  perfect  love  of  God  would  exclude 
that  undue  regard  for  self,  into  which  all  malignity  pro- 
perly human  strikes  its  roots.  Both  fear  and  hate  are  pas- 
sions, and  imply  intense  feeling  ;  but  selfishness  is  a  prin- 
ciple, and  may  be  the  basis  and  substratum  of  life.  Prac- 
tically, this  is,  indeed,  the  great  antagonist  force  to  love. 
Consciously  or  unconsciously,  impliedly  or  avowedly,  we 
must  make  either  self  or  God  the  centre;  and  in  the  con- 
flict of  self  with  the  claims  and  will  and  interests  of  God 
consists  the  great  moral  battle  of  this  world.  Originally 
self  has  the  ground  ;  but  the  entrance  of  divine  love  is  as 
the  opening  of  spring,  where  the  winter  has  reigned.  The 
beginning  of  the  spring  is  often  unperceived  ;  its  progress  is 
slow;  there  are  long  and  fierce  struggles  of  contending 
forces  ;  sometimes  it  may  seem  to  go  back.  But  the  sun 
does  not  go  back.  His  advance  toward  the  northern 
tropic  is  steady;  the  snows  disappear,  the  conflict  of  the 
winds  ceases,  the  earth  is  quickened,  and  in  due  time  the 
long,  quiet,  fruitful  days  of  summer  are  sure  to  come.  Such 
is  the  progress,  the  triumph,  the  summer  of  a  divine  love 


74  PERFECT   LOVE. 

reigning  in  the  soul.  Now  it  will  bring  forth  fruit  unto 
God,  and  all  undue  regard  to  self  will  be  excluded. 

Having  thus  spoken  of  what  a  perfect  love  would  ex- 
clude, we  now  come  to  that  which  is  positive,  and  will 
first  consider  it  as  a  motive  to  action.  As  such,  it  is 
higher  and  purer  than  any  other.  To  work  from  fear,  is 
slavery  ;  to  work  under  the  comiDulsion  of  animal  want,  is 
a  hardship,  and  if  not  a  positive,  yet  a  relative  curse ;  to 
work  for  personal  ends,  as  for  pride,  or  ambition,  or  the 
accumulation  of  property,  either  for  its  own  sake,  or  our 
own  sake,  is  compatible  with  freedom,  but  has  in  it  no- 
thing either  purifying  or  ennobling  ;  it  finds  and  leaves  the 
soul  dry  and  hard.  But  activity  from  love,  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  freedom  and  of  joy.  Love  has  the  power  to  make 
the  greatest  labors  seem  light,  and  the  greatest  obstacles 
trifling.  When  Jacob  served  seven  years  for  Rachel, 
"  they  seemed  unto  him  but  a  few  days,  for  the  love  he 
had  to  her."  How  free  and  cheerful  is  the  labor  of  a 
mother  for  her  child !  And  even  among  animals,  where 
instinct  simulates  and  foreshadows  moral  love,  we  are 
attracted  toward  it,  we  sympathize  with  it,  we  think  it 
beautiful,  we  regard  it  as  wanton  and  cruel  to  disturb  its 
natural  flow.  Its  very  semblance  is  the  highest  form  of 
animal  life  ;  and  when  the  rapt  seraph  adores  and  burns, 
it  is  this  that  gives  to  the  flame  its  brightness  and  its 
power. 

But  in  a  world  and  a  universe  where  obedience  is  so 
required  by  the  cardinal  relations  in  which  we  are  placed 
to  parents,  to  civil  society,  and  to  God,  the  place  of  love, 
as  a  motive  to  obedience,  requires  special  attention.  In 
amoral  system  it  would  seem  that  the  point  where  obedience 
is  required,  must  be  that  and  that  only,  where  there  can 
be  pressure,  friction,  derangement.  Obedience  requires 
the  sacrifice  of  will,  of  pride,  often  of  apparent  self-interest. 


PERFECT  LOVE.  75 

And  of  these  there  is  no  solvent  but  love.  Fear  may  hold 
them  in  abeyance  for  a  time;  policy  may  disguise  and 
temper  their  workings;  but  only  love  can  come  up  and 
undermine  them,  and  float  them  away,  and  dissolve  them 
in  its  own  depths.  Obedience  from  love,  is  that  alone 
which  is  honorable  to  him  who  is  obeyed ;  and  there  is  no 
other  principle,  there  can  be  no  other,  that  will  bind  a 
free  and  rational  being  to  obey,  and  make  that  obedience 
a  source  of  happiness.  Hence  the  Bible,  always  true  to 
the  constitution  and  wants  of  our  nature,  anticipates  and 
recognizes  no  other  obedience.  "  This  is  the  love  of  God, 
that  we  keep  his  commandments."  "  If  ye  love  me,  keep 
my  commandments,"  making  the  love  first,  and  the  keep- 
ing of  the  commandments  a  natural  fruit  and  outgrowth  of 
that.  Thus  it  is  that  love,  where  action  is  not  possible, 
and  where  it  is,  love  expressed  in  action — "love,  is  the 
fulfilling  of  the  lav/." 

Nor  may  I  omit  to  mention  the  relation  of  love  to 
the  intellect  as  a  moving  power.  All  high  emotion  is 
indeed  preceded  by  the  action  of  the  intellect,  yet  that 
emotion  reacts  upon  the  intellect,  and  from  it  alone 
must  come  the  impulse  that  will  lead  to  steady  and 
intense  application.  Here,  as  in  the  body,  the  powers 
act  in  a  circle.  Digestion  forms  the  blood,  the  blood 
gives  power  to  digestion.  It  is  a  prejudice,  as  disas- 
trous as  it  is  unfounded,  that  there  can  be  a  schism 
between  the  heart  and  the  intellect,  to  the  advantage 
of  either.  The  world  is  not  ready  to  receive  it,  but  it 
lies  in  our  structure,  and  must  ultimately  appear,  that  the 
love  of  God  is  the  highest  ground  of  enthusiasm,  not  only 
in  the  study  of  his  word,  but  of  his  works.  They  may 
indeed  be  studied  from  curiosity,  from  ambition,  from  a 
desire  even  to  disprove  the  being  or  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  God  ;  and  thus  we  may  have  sharp,  disputatious, 


76  PERFECT   LOVE. 

dogmatical  partisans  of  theories ;  but  the  genial,  patient, 
comprehensive,  all-reconciling  thinker,  will  be  most  often 
found  where  the  pale  and  dry  light  of  the  intellect  is  tem- 
pered by  the  warm  glow  of  love.  How  can  he  who  has 
no  love,  interpret  a  universe  that  originated  in  love  ?  The 
works  of  God  are  all  expressions  of  his  attributes,  and 
thoughts,  and  feelings.  Through  them  we  may  commune 
with  him.  So  far  as  there  is  thought  in  the  works  of  God, 
it  is  his  thought.  He  it  is  that,  through  uniformities  and 
resemblances  and  tendencies,  whispers  into  the  ear  of  a 
philosophy,  not  falsely  so  called,  its  sublime  truths  ;  and  as 
we  begin  to  feel,  and  trace  more  and  more  those  lines  of 
relation  that  bind  all  things  into  one  system,  the  touch  of 
any  one  of  which  may  vibrate  to  the  fixed  stars,  this  com- 
munion becomes  high  and  thrilling.  Science  is  no  longer 
cold.  It  lives,  and  breathes,  and  glows,  and  in  the  ear  of 
love  its  voice  is  always  a  hymn  to  the  Creator. 

And  not  only  is  love  a  motive  of  action,  it  is  also  a 
guide.  The  modes  in  which  conscious  beings  are  guided 
to  their  good,  are  two.  They  either  comprehend  the  good, 
and  the  means  of  attaining  it,  and  so  are  guided  by  reason  ; 
or,  without  comprehension,  are  guided  to  the  good  by  a 
blind  and  unreasoning  instinct.  Of  these,  reason  is  the 
higher,  but  instinct  is  the  more  sure  ;  and  proud  as  we  are 
of  our  reason,  it  not  seldom  happens  that  that  very  reason 
would  call  upon  us  to  give  up  the  guidance  of  ourselves, 
not  merely  to  faith  in  God,  which  some  object  to,  but  even 
to  the  instinct  of  a  brute.  The  traveller  on  horseback,  re- 
turning home  and  losing  his  way  in  the  darkness,  will  most 
wisely  give  his  horse  the  reins.  He  who  winds  his  way 
over  the  fearful  passes  of  the  Andes,  on  the  back  of  a 
mule,  where  a  single  misstep  would  precipitate  him  a 
thousand  feet,  must  interpose  no  suggestions  of  reason 
between  the  sagacity  of  instinct  and  his  own  safety.     Now 


PERFECT  LOVE.  77 

what  man  needs,  is  a  guiding  principle,  that  shall  combine 
the  security  of  an  instinct  with  the  ardor  of  passion,  and 
the  freedom  and  dignity  of  a  rational  wisdom.  And  such 
a  principle  he  has  in  the  love  of  God.  It  is  rational  and 
free,  because,  in  the  fullest  light  of  his  reason,  man  chooses 
God  as  the  object  of  his  confidence  and  love ;  it  has  in  it 
the  element  and  impulsion  of  passion,  because  we  are  drawn 
toward  him  by  his  own  inherent  loveliness,  as  the  river  to 
the  ocean;  and  it  is  sure,  because  God  must  deny  himself, 
before  he  could  suffer  an  action,  prompted  by  genuine  love 
to  him,  to  result  in  ultimate  disaster.  It  is  through  this 
irresistible  conviction  of  security,  that  a  perfect  love  must 
cast  out  all  fear  and  its  torment.  In  a  world  like  this, 
where  we  know  so  little  of  the  connections  and  dependent 
cies  of  things,  a  case  can  never  occur  in  which  the  highest 
reason  would  not  require  us  to  follow  the  promptings  of 
love  to  God,  rather  than  any  calculations  of  what  we  may 
call  prudence,  or  understanding,  or  reason.  It  may  lead 
to  the  martyr's  stake ;  but  the  end  will  justify  it.  It  is 
from  the  predominance  of  love  in  the  character  of  woman, 
that  what  seem  to  be  her  instincts,  but  which  are  some- 
thing higher,  are  often  so  much  wiser  than  the  reason  of 
man.  Woman  loves,  and  trusts,  and  so  prays ;  man  rea- 
sons, or  thinks  he  does,  and  scoffs.  The  perfection  of 
character  and  of  action  will  be  found,  as  it  was  in  Christ, 
in  the  highest  combination  of  reason  and  of  love. 

But  not  only  is  love  a  motive  and  guide  of  action,  it  is 
the  basis  and  essential  element  of  character.  The  charac- 
teristics of  a  man,  are  those  things  by  which  he  is  known  ; 
his  character^  is  his  moral  state,  and  this  depends  on  the 
paramount  love  that  is  in  him.  If  the  paramount  love  be 
of  sensual  pleasure,  the  man  is  a  voluptuary  ;  if  of  fame, 
ambitious  ;  if  of  money,  a  miser;  and  if  of  God,  he  is  a 
religious  man.     According  to  his  paramount  love,  will  be 


78  PERFECT  LOVE. 

the  image  and  superscription  that  shall  be  set  upon  every 
spiritual  being;  according  to  this  the  quality  of  his  inner 
life,  his  affinities,  his  companionships,  and  his  ultimate 
destiny.  The  perfect  love  of  God,  is  the  Christian  reli- 
gion perfected  in  us  :  it  gives  us  affinity  for  him,  com- 
placency in  him,  and  gives  us  naturally,  the  inheritance 
not  only  of  all  thmgs  which  he  has  made,  but  also  of  the 
direct  brightness  and  glories  of  his  character. 

And  this  leads  me  to  speak,  in  the  last  place,  of  love  as 
a  source  of  enjoyment. 

Happiness,  as  has  been  said,  does  not  consist  chiefly 
in  the  possession  of  anything,  but  in  the  activity  of  the 
faculties  upon  their  appropriate  objects.  The  intellect  is 
not  for  itself;  it  apprehends  objects  adapted  to  produce 
emotion,  and  the  eniotion  comes  to  us  loaded  with  happi- 
ness, as  the  air  with  fragrance.  We  seem  at  times,  indeed, 
to  know  it  only  as  happiness. 

But  of  the  emotions,  the  moral  love  of  a  Being  that  is 
infinite  and  perfect,  is  the  highest  possible.  Has  man  the 
capacity  to  apprehend  such  a  Being  directly,  and  can  such 
a  Being  thus  become,  by  his  own  presence,  the  immediate 
cause  of  emotion  ?  That  he  can,  the  Bible  clearly  asserts  ; 
and  this  is  the  Christian  solution,  unique  and  grand  as  the 
telescopic  heavens,  of  the  great  problem  of  the  highest 
good  of  man.  No  philosophy  and  no  religion  had  conceived 
of  anything  so  lofty  as  this.  It  is  his  chief  distinction,  his 
highest  dignity,  that  he  is  capable  of  such  direct  com- 
munion. 

In  this  life  we  see  all  things  by  reflected  light,  often  in 
utter  unconsciousness  of  the  source  of  that  light.  The 
tendency  is  to  see  the  creature,  and  forget  the  Creator. 
Men  behold  all  things  in  their  unity  and  beauty,  the 
"  cosmos,"  without  reference  to  God.  The  world  is  in  their 
heart.     But  infinite  love  has  provided  for  his  creatures 


PERFECT  LOVE.  79 

something  better  than  this.  We  shall  not  only,  as  here, 
see  God  by  reflected  light,  we  shall  behold  his  face.  The 
light  that  is  now  below  the  horizon  will  arise  full-orbed, 
and  shine  with  direct  rays.  It  shall  flood  the  universe, 
and  shall  never  go  down.  There  shall  be  no  night  there. 
Not  that  we  suppose  that  the  whole  joy  of  heaven  will 
consist  in  the  direct  contemplation  of  God.  Christianity 
excludes  no  source  of  happiness  of  which  our  higher  nature 
could  render  us  capable.  It  includes  the  pleasures  of 
knowledge,  of  the  social  state,  and  the  swelling  anthem. 
But  all  must  see,  that  if  we  are  admitted,  not  only  to  an 
apprehension  of  the  universe,  but  also  to  an  immediate 
and  direct  apprehension  of  that  goodness  in  which  the 
universe  originated  ;  if  we  may  know  the  Infinite  as  a 
friend  knows  his  friend,  the  emotion  must  be  far  higher. 
This  is  the  goal,  the  limit  of  imagination  and  of  possibility. 
Than  this  nothing  higher,  nothing  more  ultimate  or  more 
satisfying  can  be  conceived. 

And  now,  my  friends,  what  better  can  I  do  than  to 
commend  to  you  the  cultivation  of  the  affections,  and 
especially  of  that  highest  of  all  affections,  the  love  of  God. 
I  do  not  give  you  advice,  but  seek  to  bring  you  under  the 
guidance  of  a  great  principle,  that  will  bear  you  on  to  your 
true  good,  as  the  river  to  the  ocean.  Adopt  this,  and  I 
would  simply  say  to  each  of  you,  by  way  of  advice,  as 
Samuel  said  to  Saul,  "  Do  as  occasion  shall  serve  thee,  for 
God  is  with  thee.'  So  far  as  instructors  can  give  direct 
aid  in  education,  it  is  in  that  of  the  intellect.  In  this  you 
have,  to  a  great  extent,  walked  with  each  other,  and  with 
us ;  and  if  the  way  has  been  toilsome,  it  has  also  been 
pleasant,  and  the  toil  is  strengthening.  We  rejoice  to 
have  walked  with  you  ;  we  hope  it  has  beeen  profitable  for 
you,  and  that  it  may  hereafter  be  pleasant  in  the  remem- 
12 


80  PERFECT  LOVE. 

brance,  that  you  have  walked  with  us.  But  when  the 
intellectual  part  is  finished,  and  the  point  of  transition 
from  thought  to  emotion  and  affection  is  reached,  there  is 
no  longer  unity.  We  have  then  the  expression  of  the  in- 
dividuality of  each,  and  the  same  appearances  and  facts 
and  knowledge  may  be  transmuted  into  emotions  and 
affections,  as  different  from  each  other  as  an  anthem  is 
from  a  sneer.  I  txhort you  to  sing  the  anthem,  and  if  there 
must  be  those  who  scoff  and  sneer,  not  to  be  of  their  num- 
ber. There  is  no  source  of  happiness  like  a  loving  heart. 
He  that  has  found  a  worthy  object  of  a  true  affection  has 
found  a  treasure,  and  he  that  has  found  one  of  infinite 
worth  has  found  an  infinite  good.  Therefore  it  is  that  I 
address  you  in  no  language  of  stoicism,  of  caution,  of 
repression,  such  as  age  and  experience  often  adopt.  It  is 
peculiar  to  the  love  of  God,  that  there  is  in  it  no  danger 
or  possibility  of  excess.  It  is  with  loving,  as  with  glorify- 
ing him.  "  When  you  glorify  the  Lord,"  says  the  son  of 
Sirach,  "exalt  him  as  much  as  you  can ;  for  even  yet  will 
he  far  exceed  :  and  when  you  exalt  him,  put  forth  all  your 
strength  and  be  not  weary,  for  you  can  never  go  far 
enough."  Here  there  is  no  need  of  repression,  no  conflict 
of  reason  with  the  affections.  The  highest  office  of  reason 
is  to  minister  to  a  divine  love,  and  if  this,  in  which  there 
can  be  no  excess,  be  enthroned,  there  can  be  no  danger 
of  excess  in  any  other  affection  or  passion.  It  is  not  rea- 
son, that  is  the  natural  governor  of  the  passions.  The 
office  of  reason  is  to  enthrone  an  affection  rightfully  su- 
preme. When  this  is  done,  all  other  affections  take  their 
proper  places.  Then  light,  and  warmth,  and  attraction, 
coalesce ;  then,  not  from  coercion  or  repression,  but  from 
co-operation  and  harmonious  action,  will  there  be  peace, 
and  an  infinite  joy.  I  exhort  you,  then,  to  no  cold  cau- 
don,  but  to   the  intensest  energy,  both  of  thought  and  of 


PERFECT  LOVE.  8 1 

feeling.  Let  reason  tread  her  outermost  circuits ;  she 
shall  gather  nothing  that  will  not  kindle  and  go  up  as  in- 
cense at  the  touch  of  divine  love.  Have  zeal,  have  enthu- 
siasm. There  is  a  sphere  for  you ;  there  is  a  true  trea- 
sure. There  are  gold  and  pearls  and  diamonds  and  rubies 
that  perish  not.  There  is  something  worth  living  for. 
Mount  up  as  on  eagles'  wings,  up — up — to  the  expanse 
above  you  there  is  no  limit. 

But  while  I  thus  exhort  you  to  this  love,  as  the  perma- 
nent good  of  man,  I  would  also  urge  it  as  especially  need- 
ed now  in  our  relations  here — in  the  present  tendency 
to  sectionalism  in  politics,  and  to  sectarianism  in  religion. 
If  discordant  elements  are  to  be  fused,  it  can  be  only  by 
love.  Entire  unity  of  view,  in  regard  to  modes  and  rites 
and  forms,  may  be  hopeless ;  but  may  not  these  be  put  and 
kept  where  they  ought  to  be  ?  May  not  minor  points  be  so 
merged  in  essential  truth,  that  harmony  shall  not  be  dis- 
turbed.'* May  not  God  be  so  loved,  that  all  who  love  him 
shall  be  loved  also — that  all  shall  be  loved  as  he  loves 
them?  And  who  should  do  this,  if  not  you?  This  is  de- 
manded of  you  by  the  spirit  of  your  training  here  ;  the  age 
demands  it  of  you  ;  God  demands  it.  Who  can  better 
bring  the  diversity  that  springs  from  free  thought  into  the 
unity  of  an  intelligent  love  ?  Diversity  is  before  unity,  as 
chaos  is  before  order,  as  solution  is  before  the  crystal.  But 
has  not  diversity  touched  its  limit  ?  Is  it  not  time  that 
thoughtful  and  good  men  should  find  a  common  centre  in 
Him  who  foretold  the  diversity,  but  prayed  for  the  unity. 
To  Him  we  must  look.  He  is  the  true  head,  the  leader, 
the  champion,  the  restorer  of  the  race.  Not  human  sys- 
tems or  organizations,  but  Christ  only,  can  be  a  living 
centre  of  unity.  His  kingdom  is  one  of  obedience  and 
love — of  obedience  from  love.  Of  these  he  set  the  great 
example.     He  became  obedient  unto  death  j  he  loved  us 


82  PERFECT   LOVE. 

unto  the  end,  M}-  friends,  I  feel  deeply  that  the  compla- 
cency of  God  in  us — that  our  cooperation  with  him — that 
the  results  of  our  living  that  will  stand  the  fire,  will  be  as 
our  love.  This  will  purify  us.  This  will  strengthen  us  for 
self-denying  labors.  This  will  make  us  missionaries  wher- 
ever we  may  be.  This  will  enable  us  to  unite  substantially 
with  all  good  men.  This  will  make  it  light  when  we  go 
down  into  the  dark  valley.  And  when  your  work  is  done  ; 
when,  one  by  one,  you  shall  go  down  into  that  valley,  may 
that  light  be  around  you  ;  may  you  each  have  that  "perfect 
love"  that  "casteth  out  fear." 


V. 


SELF-DENIAL. 

For  it  became  Him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in 
bringing  many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  captain  of  their  salvation  per- 
fect through  sufferings.— Hebrews,  ii.  lo. 

If  any  man  will  come  after  me  let  him  deny  himself,  take  up  his  cross  and  fol- 
low me.— Matthew,  xvi.  24. 

WHAT  is  it  that  makes  a  hero  ?  Not  simply  labors 
performed  and  sufferings  endured.  The  slave 
labors  and  suffers.  The  labors  and  sufferings  must  be 
voluntarily  assumed.  Nor  is  this  enough.  The  fanatic, 
the  superstitious  devotee,  voluntarily  assume  labors  and 
sufferings  ;  but  they  are  not  heroes.  The  labors  and  suf- 
ferings must  be  voluntarily  assumed,  from  benevolence,  a 
pure  affection,  or  a  sense  of  duty.  Labors  and  sufferings 
thus  assumed  and  perseveringly  sustained,  make  a  hero  ; 
and  it  is  the  turning-point  in  the  destiny  of  men,  when 
they  freely  decide  whether  they  will,  or  will  not,  assume 
that  self-denial  and  suffering,  without  which  nothing  great 
or  good  can  be  accomplished.  Not  more  surely  does  the 
tree  come  to  its  flowering  and  its  fruitage,  than  man  comes 
to  freedom  of  choice,  intelligent  action,  moral  responsibility, 
and  through  these,  to  that  moment  of  decisive  and  gov- 
erning choice  which  shall  control  his  professional  career 
here,  to  that  which  shall  give  direction  to  the  current  of 
his  moral  life  forever.  At  this  point,  the  set  of  the  cur- 
rent may  be  undecided.  It  may  be  as  water  on  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Andes.  A  pebble,  the  finger  of  a  child,  may 
turn  it;  but  that  moment  decides  whether  it  shall  min- 
gle with  the  stormy  Atlantic,  or  rest  and  glitter  on  the 
bosom  of  the  broad  Pacific. 

***  August  3, 1856. 


84  SELF-DENIAL. 

This  connection  of  heroism  with  labor  and  suffering 
preferred  for  a  high  end  to  ease  and  pleasure,  and  this 
turning-point  in  life,  heathen  mythology  has  presented  in 
the  choice  of  Hercules,  between  Virtue  and  Pleasure.  I 
wish  to  present  them  to  you  under  the  clearer  light  and 
higher  sanctions  of  the  religion  of  Christ.  This  would 
make  every  man  a  hero.  The  work  of  Christ  was  accom- 
plished through  suffering,  which  we  know  he  chose  to 
endure,  and  those  who  would  follow  him  must  deny  them- 
selves^ must  take  up  the  cross  !  Is  then  the  end  worthy 
of  these  sacrifices  ?  Are  they  inherent  in  the  system  ? 
How  does  this  principle  of  self-denial  compare  with  those 
which  regulate  the  world  t  That  we  may  answer  these 
questions,  let  us  look 

I.  At  the  object  of  Christianity,  which  is,  as  presented 
in  the  Scriptures,  to  bring  "many sons  unto  glory." 

IL  At  the  process  by  which  this  is  to  be  accom- 
plished— a  process  of  salvation  implying  a  previous  liabil- 
ity and  tendency  to  ruin. 

IIL  At  the  consequent  fact  that  self-denial  and  suffer- 
ing, voluntarily  assumed,  must  enter  as  essential  elements 
into  Christianity. 

And  IV.  Compare  the  principle  of  self-denial  with  those 
which  regulate  the  enterprise  and  pleasures  of  the  world. 

First,  then,  the  object  of  Christianity  is  to  bring 
"  many  sons  unto  glory." 

This  is  its  more  immediate  and  direct  object,  though, 
as  has  been  said  of  the  atmosphere,  it  "consolidates 
uses."  The  atmosphere  evaporates  water,  distributes  it, 
reflects  light,  bears  up  birds,  wafts  ships,  supports  com- 
bustion, conveys  sound,  is  the  breath  of  our  life,  and  the 
azure  of  our  heavens.  So  Christianity,  while  it  magnifies 
the  law,  and  enthrones  mercy,  and  reconciles  us  to  God, 


SELF-DENIAL.  85 

and  makes  known  to  principalities  and  powers  in  the 
heavenly  places  his  manifold  wisdom,  is  also  the  regu- 
lating and  renovating  spirit  in  the  relations  of  time.  It 
alone  inspires  and  guides  progress  ;  for  the  progress  of 
man  is  movement  towards  God,  and  movement  towards 
God  will  insure  a  gradual  unfolding  of  all  that  exalts  and 
adorns  man.  It  excludes  malignity,  subdues  selfishness, 
regulates  the  passions,  subordinates  the  appetites,  quickens 
the  intellect,  exalts  the  affections.  It  promotes  industry, 
honesty,  truth,  purity,  kindness.  It  humbles  the  proud,  ex- 
alts the  lowly,  upholds  law,  is  essential  to  liberty,  and  would 
unite  men  in  one  great  brotherhood.  It  is  the  breath 
of  life  to  our  social  and  civil  well-being  here,  and  spreads 
the  azure  of  that  heaven  into  whose  unfathomed  depths 
the  eye  of  faith  loves  to  look.  All  this  it  does,  while  yet 
its  great  object  is  in  the  future.  The  river  passes  on,  but 
the  trees  upon  its  banks  are  green  and  bear  fruit. 

The  glory  spoken  of  in  the  text,  and  which  is  the 
direct  object  of  Christianity,  consists  in  an  immortality, 
in  the  moral  likeness  of  God,  and  in  the  consequent  en- 
joyment of  him  and  of  all  that  he  has  to  give.  It  implies 
conscious  rectitude,  and  the  approbation  and  love  of  all 
the  good  in  the  universe  of  God.  This  is  true  glory; 
and  the  love  of  this,  Christianity  does  not  repress.  That 
love  is  Christianity,  and  it  calls  out  in  its  pursuit  the  whole 
strength  of  the  human  powers.  It  opens  to  the  flight  of 
the  eagle  a  boundless  firmament.  Here  is  one  difference 
between  the  Christian  and  the  worldly  hero.  "  Now  they 
do  it,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  for  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we 
for  an  incorruptible."  It  is  a  "  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth 
not  away."  It  transcends,  as  it  should  to  be  most  effec- 
tive, as  it  must  to  be  adequate,  our  highest  conceptions. 
Even  inspiration  can  only  say,  as  only  inspiration  would 
say,  " We  know  not  what  we   shall  be."     "Eye  hath   not 


86  SELF-DENIAL. 

seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that 
love  him."  This  is  the  highest  possible  object  for  man, 
and  hence  there  is  in  it  his  true  end;  for  the  true  end  of 
anything  which  God  has  made,  is  the  highest  of  which 
it  is  capable. 

Christianity  does  not,  indeed,  claim  that  it  shall  bring 
all  unto  glory.  Here  is  a  mystery  that  hangs  over  this 
revelation,  and  a  ground  of  its  rejection  by  many.  It 
speaks  of  sin  with  a  sternness,  and  of  its  unaverted  re- 
sults with  a  terror,  with  which  those  who  have  but  slight 
conceptions  of  the  holiness  of  God  have  no  sympathy. 
Still,  it  is  entirely  a  system  of  salvation,  and  will  bring 
unto  glory  every  one  who  will  receive  it.  Men  may  reject 
it,  and  then  charge  upon  it  the  very  ruin  from  which  it 
came  to  deliver  them  ;  but  it  is  wholly  beneficent.  Through 
it  must  come  all  the  ultimate  good  that  shall  come  to  the 
race  ;  and  if  there  must  be  those  who  perish,  yet  the  sons 
that  shall  be  brought  unto  glory  shall  be  many.  They 
shall  be  "  a  great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number, 
of  all  nations  and  kindreds  and  people  and  tongues." 

Such  is  the  object  of  Christianity  ;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  this  object  is  to  be  reached  by  a  process  oi salvation^ 
implying  a  previous  liability  and  tendency  to  ruin. 

This  proposition  all  do  not  accept ;  and,  among  those 
who  believe  in  the  being  and  agency  of  a  personal  God,  the 
question  respecting  its  truth  involves  a  division  more  radi- 
cal than  any  other.  It  involves  a  difference  in  the  founda- 
tion on  which  men  build,  in  all  the  aspects  of  the  present 
system,  in  the  supposed  tendencies  of  our  nature  and  of  hu- 
man affairs,  and  in  all  plans  for  reform.  This  is  the  parting 
point  between  the  Evangelical  system  of  religion  and  all 
others  ;  for  Evangelism,  being  the  proclamation  of  good 


SELF-DENIAL. 


87 


tidings,  can  properly  involve  only  what  is  announced  from 
without  as  coming  into  the  system,  and  not  anything  already 
in  the  system,  and  that  could  be  evolved  from  it.  Is  the 
ship  moving  toward  the  port,  or  drifting  upon  the  rocks. 
Left  to  itself,  will  that  aggregate  of  capacities  and  tenden- 
cies which  we  call  human  nature  reach  its  true  good  as  in- 
stinct reaches  its  end  ?  Do  we  become  sons  of  God,  and 
shall  we  be  brought  unto  glory  by  our  first  birth,  or  must 
we  be  born  again  ? 

I  know  well  how  strange  the  state  is  in  which  this 
doctrine  supposes  our  world  to  be,  and  into  what  myste- 
ries of  the  past,  and  perplexities  of  the  present,  and  fears 
of  the  future,  it  must  run  ;  and  how  strong  in  us  all,  is 
that  naturalism  by  which  we  hold,  as  with  the  grasp  of 
death,  to  what  is  called  the  world.  I  know  with  what  in- 
tense hatred  and  scorn  this  doctrine  and  its  adjuncts  are 
regarded,  often  by  learning  and  philosophy,  and  especially 
by  genius,  that  well  knows  how  to  weave  its  bitter  derision 
of  them  into  the  tissue  of  its  fiction  and  its  poetry.  I 
know  how  strong  the  argument  against  it  is,  both  from 
feeling  and  from  a  seeming  analogy. 

How  bright  and  beautiful  is  that  nature  by  which  we 
are  surrounded,  and  with  which  we  feel  ourselves  in  sym- 
pathy ?  We  stand  abroad  when  the  day  is  gone,  and  the 
stars  are  coming  out  in  the  clear  heavens,  and  the  crescent 
moon  hangs  in  the  west,  and  the  dark  foliage  sleeps  in 
the  still  air,  and  the  faint  light  lies  upon  mountain  and 
valley  and  river  like  a  white  veil  upon  the  face  of  beauty, 
and  Feeling  asks,  Can  it  be  this  which  revelation  has  v/rit- 
ten,  "  Reserved  unto  fire  ?  " 

We  see  the  orbs  of  heaven  moving,  unerringly,  as  if  of 
themselves  ;  we  see  the  tree  pushed  upward  by  an  inter- 
nal force,  and  the  animal  following  its  instinct-,  and  thus 
reaching  their    ends.     They    have  no    need  to  be    born 


88  SELF-DENIAL. 

again  ;  and  Analogy  asks,  Is  not  our  nature  also  good? 
If  we  give  ourselves  up  to  the  guidance  of  its  instincts  and 
impulses  and  passions,  shall  it  not  be  well  with  us  ?  To 
enjoy,  is  it  not  to  obey  ?  May  we  not  give  nature  her 
bent,  and  eat  and  drink  and  enjoy  ourselves  and  die,  and 
feel  that  death  is  but  a  sleep  before  a  pleasant  waking  ? 
Oh,  what  joy  it  were  to  mingle  ourselves  with  the  elements 
and  forces  around  us,  in  their  on-going,  without  responsi- 
bility, or  care,  or  fear.  Can  it  be  that  we  must  deny  our- 
selves }  Have  we  that  in  us  which  needs  to  be  repressed, 
crucified,  and  must  we  make  strenuous  effort  or  be  lost  ? 
Oh,  how  gladly  would  we  believe  that  the  broad  road  of 
nature  does  7wf  lead  to  destruction — that  her  current 
would  float  us  down  to  no  rapids,  and  to  no  cataract. 

But  not  so  speaks  the  revealed  word.  That  says  that 
the  broad  road  does  lead  to  destruction.  Not  so  says 
conscience.  When  the  still  night  of  reflection  comes,  she 
does  hear  the  roar  of  the  cataract  towards  which  sin  is 
floating.  Not  so  say  history  and  fact.  When  we  contrast 
the  idols  of  heathen  nations,  and  their  objects  of  worship, 
with  the  true  God  :  and  their  frivolous  and  debasing  super- 
stitions with  his  holy  and  spiritual  worship  ;  and  their 
aims  and  hopes  with  the  Christian  heaven  ;  and  their 
wretched  forms  of  intellectual  and  social  life,  their  wars 
and  licentiousness  and  revenge  and  deceit,  with  the 
intelligence  and  purity  and  love  which  Christianity  would 
produce  ;  when  we  see  how  Christianity  itself  is  thwarted, 
baffled,  perverted,  rejected  ;  we  must  feel  that  here  is 
moral  perversion  and  moral  ruin.  Not  so  speaks  the 
voice  of  nature,  in  her  sterner  and  more  terrific  aspects ; 
not  so  in  the  uncertainty  and  hazard  upon  which  she  puts 
us  in  regard  to  our  interests  here  ;  not  so  in  her  unswerv- 
ing laws  and  unpitying  inflictions  when  the  fatal  point  in 
transgression  is  reached.  Not  so  speaks  death,  in  its 
13* 


SELF-DENIAL.  89 

present  aspect  and  form,  with  its  sin-envemoned  sting. 
Not  so  speak  the  law  of  God,  and  those  dreadful  words, 
guilt,  and  remorse,  which  are  in  human  speech  because 
what  they  indicate  was  first  in  human  consciousness.  Not 
so,  especially,  speak  Gethsemane  and  Calvary.  There 
can  be  no  healing  without  sickness,  no  redemption  without 
captivity,  no  pardon  without  guilt,  no  finding  of  those  that 
are  not  lost,  no  salvation  without  exposure  to  ruin.  If 
nature  and  Christianity  did  so  speak,  the  first  altar  built 
by  the  gate  of  Paradise,  and  every  bleeding  victim  under 
the  Jewish  economy  were  a  lie,  and  Christianity  would 
deny  the  necessity  of  its  own  existence.  There  would 
not  be,  as  there  is  now,  a  salvation,  and  a  Captain  of  our 
salvation  made  perfect  through  sufferings. 

With  such  ground  for  the  proposition  that  the  process 
of  Christianitv  is  one  of  salvation,  let  us  look, 

in.  At  the  consequent  fact  that  self-denial  and  suffer- 
ing, voluntarily  assumed,  must  enter  as  essential  elements 
into  Christianity. 

The  self-denial  and  sufferings  essential  to  Christianity 
as  redemptive  and  restorative  are  those  of  Christ,  and  of 
his  people.  Both  were  necessary,  but  on  different  grounds. 
When  the  Apostle  says  of  Christ  that  he  was  made  perfect 
through  sufferings,  he  must  mean,  not  that  he  was  made 
perfect  as  a  man — for  as  a  man  he  was  always  perfect — 
but  that  by  these  he  became  officially  perfect,  that  is,  qual- 
ified for  his  work.  Why  it  became  God  thus  to  qualify 
him,  we  are  not  here  told  j  but  this  expression  implies  that 
in  his  qualification  the  sufferings  were  an  indispensable 
element.  That  they  did  meet  an  exigency  in  the  divine 
government,  and  are  of  peculiar  efficacy,  appears  from  the 
fact  that  he  did  so  suffer  ;  from  the  whole  sacrificial  econ- 
omy, patriarchal  and  Jewish  j  from  most  direct  assertions 


90  SELF-DENIAL. 

of  the  Bible  ;  from  the  peculiar  basis  of  Christian  obliga- 
tion ;  and  from  the  songs  of  the  redeemed. 

But  all  the  sufferings  of  Christ  were  not  redemptive. 
He  met  with  opposition  and  reproach,  and  fell  under  them 
as  man  may  feel.  He  "was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as 
we  are,"  and  there  are  self-denials  and  sufferings  which  his 
people  must  share  with  him.  The  soldier  must  follow  his 
Captain. 

That  self-denial  enters  into  the  preceptive  part  of  Chris- 
tianity, no  one  can  doubt.  It  is  remarkable  how  unflinch- 
ingly she  proclaims  her  gate  of  entrance  to  be  strait,  and 
her  path  to  be  trodden,  narrow.  She  calls  upon  men  to 
count  the  cost  before  they  begin  to  build.  Unqualifiedly 
and  universally  does  Christ  announce  the  condition  of  dis- 
cipleship:  "If  any  ma?t  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny 
himself,  and  take  up  his  cross  and  follow  me."  "It  is  enough 
that  the  disciple  be  as  his  master."  "  If  they  have  persecuted 
me,  they  will  also  persecute  you." 

But  is  not  this  a  harsh  and  an  unexpected  feature  in  a 
religion  w^hich  originated  in  love  ?  Is  there  not  in  it  some- 
thing of  arbitrary  appointment  ?  Might  not  Christ  have 
endured  all  ?  We  say,  No.  We  say  that  self-denial  not 
only  may,  but  must  enter  into  Christian  life — that  so  far 
as  Christianity  is  redemptive  and  restorative,  every  act 
originating  under  it  is,  and  must  be,  an  act  of  self-denial. 
Christianity  is  not  the  absolute  religion.  That  is  freedom, 
health,  strength,  joy.  That  is  the  religion  of  heaven,  where 
every  power  sings  in  the  joy  of  a  spontaneous  activity.  But 
as  redemptive  and  restorative,  Christianity  exists  only  as 
antagonistic  to  sin  ;  and  hence  there  must  be  conflict  and 
consequent  self-denial  till  sin  shall  be  eradicated. 

Self-denial  is  not,  as  some  seem  to  suppose,  a  conflict 
between  different  forms  of  selfishness.  It  is  not  self-denial 
when   the  miser    concentrates   his   selfishness   into   one 


SELF-DENIAL.  9 1 

absorbing  passion,  and  through  that  denies  and  subjugates 
his  appetites;  but  self-denial  is  the  triumph  in  man  of  that 
which  is  higher  over  that  which  is  lower.  It  is,  first,  the 
exclusion  of  selfishness,  and  then  the  renunciation  of  any 
form  of  enjoyment,  or  of  natural  good,  from  duty  or  from 
love.  Christian  self-denial  is  the  denial  of  self  for  Christ's 
sake.  It  is  love  going  forth  to  reclaim  the  sinful,  and  re" 
lieve  the  wretched. 

Now  Christianity  finds  man  in  the  intense  activity  of 
a  spiritual  death,  and  her  work  is  to  make  him  spiritually 
alive  and  healthful  ;  but  all  moral  death  and  moral  disease 
so  involved  a  love  of  sin  and  its  pleasures,  a  wrong  bias 
of  the  will,  that  conflict  must  attend  every  step  of  the 
process  in  eradicating  sin  and  restoring  the  image  of  God. 
The  disease  is  in  the  will — in  the  very  self.  Hence  that 
self  must  be  denied ;  and  it  is  the  beauty  of  Christianity 
that  the  great  transition-acts  by  which  man  passes  over  to 
it  are  not  abitrary,  but  imply  just  this  denial.  Repentance, 
especially  in  that  element  of  it  by  which  we  forsake  sin,  is 
always  the  denial  of  self;  and  this  must  continue  as  long 
as  sin  shall  remain.  The  very  act  of  faith  by  which  we 
receive  Christ  is  an  act  of  the  utter  renunciation  of  self, 
and  all  its  works,  as  a  ground  of  salvation.  It  is  really  a 
denial  of  self,  and  a  grounding  of  its  arms  in  the  last 
citadel  into  which  it  can  be  driven,  and  is,  in  its  principle, 
inclusive  of  every  subsequent  act  of  self-denial  by  which 
sin  is  forsaken  or  overcome. 

But  if  it  must  require  self-denial  to  resist  and  overcome 
sin  in  ourselves,  so  must  it  when  the  sin  is  in  others.  To 
a  sinner,  the  very  life  of  his  life  seems  involved  in  the 
selfish  bent  of  his  will,  and  hence  the  war  between  sin  and 
holiness  is  one  of  extermination.  The  true  expression  of 
the  opposition  of  sin  to  reproof,  of  its  blind  determination 
and  unfaltering  malignity,  is  to  be  foUnd  in  the  crucifixion 


92  SELF-DENIAL. 

of  Christ.  It  slew  the  Son  of  God.  When  man  saw  perfect 
goodness,  he  crucified  it.  That  act  showed  the  character  of 
man  ;  the  life  and  sufferings  of  Christ  showed  the  kind  of 
effoit  needed  to  reclaim  him.  His  mission  was  wholly  for 
the  good  of  others,  including  their  radical  reformation,  and 
was  therefore  one  stupendous  act  and  manifestation  of  self- 
denial.  Of  the  same  general  character  were  the  labors 
of  the  Apostles  and  their  successors,  and  such  must  be  all 
true  missionary  labor.  In  doing  this,  men  renounce  the 
love  of  property,  of  ease  and  enjoyment,  and  give,  and 
labor,  and  suffer,  for  the  good  of  others. 

This  essential  inherence  of  self-denial  in  the  Chris- 
tian system  is  a  doctrine  that  has  faded,  perhaps  is 
fading,  from  the  consciousness  of  the  church,  and  greatly 
needs  to  be  freshened  and  revived.  Having  its  root  in 
the  moral  ruin  of  man  and  his  possible  restoration,  it  must 
enter  into  the  elimination  of  sin  and  its  consequences 
from  any  system.  It  is  the  distinctive  characteristic  of 
Christian  activity  as  opposed  to  a  life  of  mere  nature,  or 
of  absolute  wickedness.  It  excludes,  on  the  one  hand, 
all  penances  and  self-righteousness;  and,  on  the  other, 
the  love  of  ease  and  self-indulgence.  Thus  viewed,  there 
is  about  it  nothing  arbitrary,  or  harsh,  or  austere.  It  is 
no  mere  negation  of  good  for  the  sake  of  the  negation, 
but  rather  the  regimen  necessary  for  the  restoration  of 
health.  Not  with  the  eye  of  a  cynic  or  of  a  stoic  is  any 
enjoyment  scorned  or  rejected,  but  only  as  duty  and  love 
fix  their  eye  upon  something  higher  and  better.  God 
is  not  a  hard  master.  The  infinite  love  of  the  gospel  is 
dashed  with  no  spirit  averse  to  enjoyment,  or  that  would 
mar  the  unspeakable  gift. 

But  if  self-denial  must  thus  enter  into  the  Christian 
life,  let  us,  as  was  proposed  in  the  fourth  place,  compare- 


SELF-DENIAL.  93 

it  with  the  principles  which  govern  the  world,  especially 
with  that  which  governs  it  in  its  enterprise  and  business. 

The  principle  which  regulates  the  enterprise  and  busi- 
ness of  the  world,  is  that  of  demand  and  supply;  and  the 
spirit  of  the  time  requires,  when  this  would  come  in  con- 
flict with  self-denial,  that  they  should  be  brought  fully 
into  contrast,  that  you  may  choose  intelligently  betvveen 
them. 

That  this  principle  of  demand  and  supply  has  a  legiti- 
mate sphere,  I  do  not  question.  Among  beings  capable 
of  supplying  each  other's  wants  and  demanding  nothing 
injurious,  it  would  be  wholly  legitimate.  It  does  now,  and 
must  always,  regulate  trade,  as  gravity  does  the  level  of 
the  ocean ;  and  to  apply  it  skilfully,  is  the  great  means  of 
success  in  honorable  traffic  and  in  all  forms  of  business. 
The  young  man  inquires  what  it  is  that  the  world  demands 
and  is  willing  to  pay  for — whether  to  supply  its  wants,  or 
to  gratify  its  tastes — and  as  he  can  furnish  this,  and  the 
world  is  willing  to  pay  for  it  more  than  it  costs,  his  gains 
will  increase.  In  doing  this,  he  can  meet  with  no  opposi- 
tion from  the  very  fact  that  there  is  a  demand ;  and 
though  he  may  thus  accumulate  a  fortune,  he  is  often 
regarded,  if  not  as  a  benefactor,  yet  with  complacency  and 
approbation.  Especially  is  this  so  if  he  have  met  a  want 
unsupplied  before,  thus  opening  new  sources  of  enjoyment, 
and  new  channels  of  industry.  How  long  did  the  ice  of 
our  rivers  and  lakes  form  and  dissolve,  and  contribute 
nothing  to  industry  or  comfort  ?  And  he  who  first  had 
the  enterprise  to  take  it  to  the  tropics,  deserved  a  fortune. 
Thus  we  trust  it  will  be,  more  and  more ;  that  as  the  great 
ocean  currents  circulate  the  waters  of  all  zones  and  equal- 
ize temperature,  heat  creating  the  demand  and  cold  sup- 
plying it,  so,  in  the  legitimate  application  of  this  principle, 
the  productions  of  all  zones  shall  more  and  more  contri 


94  SELF-DENIAL. 

bute  to  bring  unity  into  the  seeming  diversity  of  nature,  to 

supply  the  wants  and  augment  the  comforts  of  man. 

But  wholly  legitimate  as  this  principle  would  be  in  a 
race  unperverted,  it  has  its  root  in  the  doctrine  that  the 
world  needs  no  moral  change — that  we  are  to  take  it  as  it 
is,  and  make  the  most  of  it.  This  it  is  that  supplies,  and 
insists  on  its  right  to  supply  whatever  demand  may  exist, 
regardless  of  the  wickedness  or  the  woe  it  may  cause. 
This  it  is  that  will  sell  the  assassin  his  knife,  and  the 
drunkard  his  drink,  and  the  slave-dealer  his  slave.  It 
says,  there  is  a  demand ;  I  only  supply  it ;  if  I  do  not, 
another  will.  Thus  the  business  of  great  companies  and 
firms,  nay  the  very  institutions  of  society  become  impreg- 
nated and  cemented  by  iniquity,  till  interest  conspires 
with  appetite  and  passion  to  blind  the  conscience  and 
silence  rebuke.  Confining  yourselves  prudently  within  the 
range  of  this  principle,  you  may  pass  on  easily,  and  gain 
wealth,  and  be  respected.  Men  will  praise  him  that  doeth 
well  for  himself.  You  will  not  be  of  those  who  turn  the 
world  upside-down.  You  will  not  trouble  the  world,  and 
the  world  will  not  trouble  you. 

But,  my  friends,  when  the  Captain  of  our  salvation 
came  into  this  world,  he  came  not  to  supply  a  demand. 
There  was  none.  He  came  to  meet  a  deep,  though  unac- 
knowledged want.  He  came  to  those  who  did  not  receive 
him,  who  rejected  him  and  his  teachings,  and  crucified 
him.  Universally  it  is  the  characteristic  of  wickedness 
and  of  the  ignorance  it  engenders,  that  they  desire  to  be  let 
alone.  Unhallowed  traffic  says,  let  me  alone,  and  slavery 
says,  let  me  alone,  and  drunkenness,  and  licentiousness, 
and  Sabbath-breaking  say,  let  us  alone,  and  superstition 
and  heathenism  say,  let  us  alone.  If  we  wait  till  there 
come  up  from  these  a  call  for  reclaiming  influences,  we 
shall  wait  forever.    And  not  only  do  they  not  demand  these, 


SELF-DENIAL. 


95 


but  they  will  resist  them,  and  persecute  those  who  bring 
them,  and  the  unconsciousness  of  need  and  the  strength  of 
lesistance  will  be  in  proportion  to  the  depth  of  the  igno- 
rance and  of  the  wickedness.  In  the  face  of  a  state  of 
things  like  this^  what  is  your  sagacious,  prudent,  prosper- 
ous, demand-and-supply  man  good  for  ?  His  principle  is 
that  the  supply  should  be  as  the  demand,  and  when  the 
demand  is  great  his  labors  are  great,  and  so  is  his  har- 
vest. But  just  the  opposite  of  this  is  the  principle  of  self- 
denial.  Not  in  proportion  to  the  demand  but  to  the  want 
of  it ;  to  the  depth  of  the  insensibility,  or  the  fierceness 
of  the  opposition,  will  its  sensibilities  be  quickened,  and 
its  energies  stirred.  It  will  run  at  the  articulated  cry  for 
help  ;  but  when  there  is  no  cry,  it  will  abide  long,  even  as 
the  missionaries  in  the  South  Sea  islands  sixteen  years, 
and  chafe  the  temples  of  seeming  death.  Said  one  who 
proposed  to  be  a  missionary,  "  Send  me  to  the  darkest 
and  hardest  and  most  degraded  place  in  your  field." 
There  spoke  the  spirit  of  the  Captain  of  our  salvation  ; 
there  the  spirit  of  every  true  missionary  and  minister  and 
pastor.  Where  is  the  pastor  even,  who  so  preaches  the 
truth  as  to  search  the  conscience,  and  enforce  every  duty 
and  exalt  God,  and  lead  to  a  life  of  humility  and  self- 
denial  because  there  is  a  demand  for  such  preaching  ? 
Where  is  there  one  who  is  not  constantly  tempted  to  sub- 
stitute the  principle  of  demand  and  supply  that  calls  for 
smooth,  or  learned,  or  entertaining,  or  exciting  preaching, 
instead  of  that  which  would  fix  his  eye  steadily  on  the  true 
end  of  preaching  ?  The  object  of  this  principle  is,  not  to 
take  the  world  as  it  is  and  make  the  most  of  it,  but  to 
transform  the  world;  and  it  can  never  rest  till  that  woild 
shall  reflect  the  image  of  heaven.  The  leaven,  if  it  be 
leaven,  must  work  and  c^lmsq  ferme?itation  till  the  whole  be 
leavened. 


g6  SELF-DENIAL. 

After  the  contrast  now  drawn,  it  will  hardly  be  neces- 
sary to  compare  this  principle  of  active  and  voluntary  self- 
denial  with  those  which  govern  the  seekers  of  pleasure  and 
of  personal  distinction.  For  the  principle  of  demand  and 
supply,  there  is  a  legitimate  sphere  ;  but  a  love  of  plea- 
sure or  of  personal  distinction  as  a  paramount  end,  has  no 
such  sphere.  They  have  self  for  their  centre.  Their  ob- 
ject is  to  use  all  things,  not  to  improve  them.  Incidentally 
and  casually  useful,  they  are  necessarily  disturbing  forces 
in  any  great  system  of  order.  They  link  not  themselves 
with  God,  or  with  any  rightly  constituted  community,  and 
so,  when  the  springs  of  nature  fail,  they  wither.  There  is 
about  them  nothing  redolent  of  immortality.  No  man, 
whatever  his  wealth,  or  position,  has  a  right  thus  to  live 
in  himself  No  man  has  a  right  to  excuse  himself  from 
active  self-denial  for  Christ's  sake.  "  If  any  man  will 
come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross, 
and  follow  me." 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  appears  that  if  there  is  in 
Christianity  an  element  of  self-denial  and  suffering,  it  is 
because  there  is  also  in  it  the  heroic,  and  the  redemptive 
element. 

The  heroic  element  is  a  firm  purpose  to  do  and  to 
endure  all  that  love  may  prompt  and  duty  require  ;  and 
implies  obstacles  great  and  long  continued.  It  is  born  of 
conflict,  is  manifested  through  labors  and  sufferings,  and 
hence,  but  for  sin  and  its  consequent  evils,  could  have  had 
no  place.  It  is  not  rash,  or  quixotic,  or  vain  ;  it  is  not 
superstitious  or  ascetic.  Needless  conflict  or  suffering  it 
avoids  ;  but  when  its  hour  is  come,  it  dares  to  the  utmost, 
it  endures  unto  death.  Its  full  perfume  is  known  only 
when  it  is  crushed.  What  wonder,  then,  that  there  has 
been   hero-worship  ?     What   has    the     pantheist    that    is 


SELF-DENIAL.  97 

nobler  ?  Yea,  what  is  the  very  highest  manifestation  of 
being,  the  sublimest  object  of  contemplation  ?  Not  oceans, 
not  mountains,  or  precipices,  or  cataracts,  or  storms.  Not 
the  blue  vault  above  us,  with  planets  and  satellites  and 
countless  suns  ;  not  the  awful  depths  of  infinite  space. 
It  is  not  power  in  its  creative  or  upholding  agency  ;  it  is 
not  skill  in  its  minutest  or  in  its  broadest  exhibitions  ;  it 
is  not  even  God  himself  ruling  by  love  over  an  intelligent, 
free,  harmonious,  happy  universe.  No  ;  it  is  self-sacrificiiig 
Love.  Clothe  this  and  the  issues  connected  with  it,  as 
does  Christianity,  with  the  attributes  of  infinity  and  eter- 
nity, and  you  have  a  manifestation  of  God  such  as  nothing 
else  can  give.  It  is  Love  unto  death  ;  Love  conquering 
through  death  ;  Love  conquering  death  itself,  and  bringing 
up  from  the  struggle,  and  bearing  aloft  the. gift  of  eternal 
life  for  a  race  that  was  lost.  Here  is  the  power  of  a  divine 
Redeemer — in  this  the  voice  of  the  Captain  of  our  salvation 
to  a  redeemed  race,  calling  upon  them  to  follow  him.  For 
something  of  this — for  self-sacrificing  love  according  to  his 
measure,  there  is  a  capacity  in  every  man,  and  to  this,  in  the 
great  conflict  between  moral  good  and  evil  of  which  this 
world  is'  the  theatre,  every  man  is  called.  It  requires  no 
favoring  exigency,  no  special  endowment,  no  applauding 
throng,  no  results  even  which  may  not  seem  to  sleep  with 
the  body  of  the  humblest  Christian  till  the  resurrection. 
Its  theatre  is  time,  its  issues  are  in  eternity.  This  is  the 
true  battle  of  life.  That  is,  not  with  the  elements,  to  gain 
food  and  shelter  ;  it  is,  not  with  the  selfishness  around  us,  to 
gain  wealth  and  position  ;  it  is  the  conflict  of  every  man 
with  that  within  and  around  him  which  would  drag  him  and 
others  down,  and  would  debar  him  and  them  from  their 
rightful  inheritance  and  position  as  children  of  God.  And 
what  element  of  heroism  can  there  be  which  does  not  here 
find  theatre  and   scope  ?     There  is  an  enemy  to  be  con- 


98  SELF-DENIAL. 

quered,  great  struggles  are  required,  great  results  are  pend- 
ing. Here  are  needed  both  endurance  and  achievement ; 
and  if  hitheito,  in  Christian  heroism,  endurance  has  seemed 
to  preponderate  over  achievement,  it  is  to  be  remembered . 
that  they  spring  from  the  same  root,  that  endurance  is 
often  the  nobler  and  more  difficult,  and  that  in  this  cause 
endurance  is  achievement.  *'  He  that  endureth  unto  the 
end,  shall  be  saved."  Wonderful  is  it  that  Christianity, 
which  so  humbles  man,  should  also  stimulate  and  exalt 
him — that  it  should  be  the  only  thing  that  brings  within 
the  reach  of  all,  the  struggles  and  rewards  of  a  true 
heroism. 

We  see  also,  from  the  preceding  discussion,  the  pecu- 
liar source  and  character  of  Christian  joy. 

Man  is  naturally  capable  of  joy  in  its  lighter  forms. 
There  is  a  joy  in  wit,  and  pleasantry,  and  mirth  ;  and  with 
these  Christianity  is  not  incompatible,  except  as  the  sight 
of  the  great  mountains,  or  the  piloting  of  a  boat  down  the 
rapids,  or  earnest  engagement  in  any  business  is  incom- 
patible with  them.  They  are  a  part  of  our  humanity  ; 
they  have  their  place,  and  let  them  have  it,  varying  with 
temperaments  and  with  times.  There  are  also  the  more 
serious  and  deeper  joys  of  success,  of  gratified  desire  and 
affection  in  any  form.  But  Christian  joy  is  joy  under  the 
Christian  system,  which  exists  only  in  opposition  to  sin 
and  in  conflict  with  it.  It  is  not,  therefore,  the  joy  of  the 
'absolute  religion,  when  the  kingdom  shall  be  delivered  up 
to  God,  even  the  Father,  but  of  a  cause  yet  militant,  mov- 
ing on  in  discouragement  and  perplexity,  and  often  meet- 
ing with  apparent  defeat.  It  is  the  joy  of  repentance,  of 
humility,  of  hope,  of  conflict ;  for  in  the  conflict  itself  there 
is  often  a  stern  joy  not  to  be  exchanged  for  those  that  are 
lighter.  There  is  in  it  the  joy  of  earnestness,  which  is 
man's    natural   element.      Negation,  skepticism,  distrust, 


SELF-DENIAL.  99 

have  no  joy.  There  is  joy  as  the  truth  grows  brighter,  as 
temptation  is  overcome,  as  appetite  and  passion  and  evil 
habits  succumb,  as  there  is  news  of  success  and  of  the 
power  of  God's  Spirit  over  the  vast  and  varied  field.  An 
Apostle  could  say,  "  I  have  no  greater  joy  than  to  hear 
that  my  children  walk  in  truth."  The  Christian  is  in 
sympathy  with  Christ  ;  and  as  the  captive  Jews  remem- 
bered Jerusalem,  so  he  remembers  his  cause,  and  weeps 
and  rejoices  with  the  alternations  of  its  success.  He  is  as 
the  patriot  soldier  watching  the  turns  of  parties  and  the 
fate  of  battles.  This  may  give  him  a  sober  and  an  appre- 
hensive eye,  but  there  is  in  it  a  deep  and  solemn  joy. 
This  is  high  in  itself,  but  is  chiefly  to  be  regarded  as  pro- 
phetic of  that  which  shall  be,  when  these  straits  and  shoals 
and  currents  of  time  shall  be  past,  and  we  shall  look  upon 
the  calm  ocean.  That  will  be  the  time  for  joy.  And  oh, 
what  joy,  when,  in  view  of  the  full  range  of  this  mighty 
conflict,  of  the  parties  engaged,  and  of  the  issues  involved, 
we  shall  see  the  last  enemy  destroyed,  and  many  sons 
shall  be  brought  unto  glory.  That  will  be  the  time  for 
joy  ;  now  is  the  time  for  labor,  self-denial,  if  need  be,  for 
sufl"ering. 

Once  more,  we  may  see  what  must  be  the  characteristic 
of  effective  labor  in  the  Christian  ministry. 

Something  is  said  at  the  present  day,  perhaps  not  too 
much  as  it  is  intended,  of  making  the  ministry  an  inviting 
field  of  labor  to  young  men,  and  thus  in  these  days,  when 
the  world  draws  so  strongly,  of  inducing  more  to  enter  it. 
But  nothing  is  gained  by  fighting  the  world  with  its  own 
weapons.  The  ministry  has  its  own  joys  and  rewards, 
higher  than  any  other ;  but  let  me  say  to  you,  my  friends, 
who  propose  to  enter  it,  that  in  its  true  spirit  it  can  never 
be  made  an  inviting  field  to  flesh  and  blood ;  and  unless 
you  expect  to  take  upon  you  this  burden  of  self-denial,  and 


100  SELF-DENIAL. 

to  look  for  your  reward  chiefly  to  the  Captain  of  your  sal- 
vation when  the  conflict  shall  be  over,  let  me  entreat  you 
not  to  enter  it. 

But  not  only  in  the  ministry  is  self-denial  required  ; 
there  is  one  rule  and  standard  for  all.  And  now,  my  dear 
friends,  let  me  ask  each  of  you,  standing  where  you  now 
do.  Will  you  deny  yourselves  in  this  world  for  Christ's 
sake  ?  I  call  you  to  no  superstition,  to  no  austerity,  to  no 
fostering  of  pride  and  self-righteousness,  but  to  the  accept- 
ance of  this  essential  element  of  the  Christian  system 
as  Christ  left  it.  As  you  answer  this  question,  you  will 
settle  the  cast  and  general  direction  of  your  influence  for 
life.  So  far  as  you  are  Christian  men,  and  have  insight 
into  your  own  state  and  moral  wants,  you  must  adopt  this 
as  an  element  of  your  own  secret,  spiritual  life.  Only  thus 
can  you  be  transformed  into  the  image  of  Christ.  Only 
thus,  too,  can  you  do  anything  to  hasten  the  triumphs  of 
a  redemptive  and  restorative  system  on  the  earth.  In  pro- 
portion to  this,  must  be  your  interest  and  ownership  in  the 
future  kingdom  of  Christ.  This  is  the  spirit  in  which  Paul 
prayed  and  labored,  the  spirit  in  which  Mills  and  his  com- 
panions prayed  under  the  "  hay-stack  "  fifty  years  ago,  and 
devoted  themselves  personally  to  the  work  of  missions ; 
and  only  in  this  spirit  can  you  be  associated  with  them. 

The  voice  of  your  great  Captain  is  calling  you  to  other 
posts  in  the  ranks  of  his  army.  Go  to  your  posts.  Vou 
are  needed  there.  Long  has  that  army  marched  in  feeble- 
ness and  in  gloom.  Through  the  long  night  of  the  past 
I  hear  its  muffled  tread,  and  the  low  notes  of  its  complain- 
ing music.  I  hear  the  groanings  of  its  prisoners,  and  see 
the  light  of  its  martyr  fires.  But  now  the  morning  is 
spread  upon  the  mountains.  Catching  the  strains  of  pro- 
phecy, the  music  strikes  up  inspiring  notes,  and  the  tramp 
of  the  host  as  it  emerges  from  the  gloom,  begins  to  shake 


SELF-DENIAL.  10 1 

the  earth.  Eveiy where  the  standard  of  the  Captain  of 
our  salvation  is  thrown  to  the  breeze,  and  the  ranks  are 
defiling  as  on  the  plain  of  the  final  battle.  Go  to  your 
posts  ;  take  unto  you  the  whole  armor  of  God ;  watch  the 
signals  and  follow  the  footsteps  of  your  Leader.  That 
Leader  is  not  now  in  the  form  of  the  man  of  sorrows ; 
not  now  does  the  sweat  of  agony  rain  from  him.  Him 
the  armies  of  heaven  follow,  and  he  "hath  on  his  vesture 
and  on  his  thigh  a  name  written,  King  of  kings,  and  Lord 
of  lords."  The  conflict  may  be  long,  but  its  issue  is  not 
doubtful.  You  may  fall  upon  the  field  before  the  final 
peal  of  victory,  but  be  ye  faithful  unto  death,  and  ye  shall 
receive  a  crown  of  life. 


VI. 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD. 

But  seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness;  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you.— Matthew,  vi.  33. 

THE  blessings  which  man  can  enjoy  may  be  divided 
into  two  classes.  Of  these,  one  class  comes  to  him 
without  his  seeking  them.  If  he  is  to  live  at  all,  he  jnust 
see  the  light  and  feel  the  warmth  of  the  sun ;  he  must 
breathe  the  air,  and  smell  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  and 
hear  the  voices  of  men  and  of  birds.  These  things  he  may, 
indeed,  seek ;  but  for  the  most  part  they  come  to  him  with- 
out any  seeking  or  agency  of  his. 

But  there  is  another  class  of  blessings  in  respect  to 
which  the  voice  of  nature  and  of  revelation  is,  "  Seek,  and 
ye  shall  find."  They  are  to  be  had  only  by  seeking — often 
only  by  the  most  assiduous  and  energetic  application  of 
those  powers  which  God  has  given  for  their  attainment. 
To  most  men  this  is  true  of  wealth  and  its  advantages ; 
and  it  is  universally  true  of  all  high  knowledge  and  of  all 
those  personal  acquisitions  and  qualities  of  mind  by  which 
a  man  becomes  truly  great. 

But  these  blessings  that  must  thus  be  sought,  may  also 
be  divided  into  two  classes,  according  to  the  direction  in 
which  they  are  sought.  We  may  either  seek  to  produce 
outward  changes  and  to  acquire  possessions,  or  we  may 
seek  to  produce  inward  changes — to  become  wiser  and 
better.     We  may  seek  to  derive  our  happiness  chiefly  from 

***  August  4,  1857. 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD. 


103 


what  wej^ossess,  or  from  what  we  are.  The  greater  part 
of  men  evidently  direct  their  activity  chiefly  to  the  produc- 
tion of  outward  changes  and  the  acquisition  of  posses- 
sions. This,  as  it  is  the  sin,  is  also  the  great  error  of  the 
race.  A  few  only  seek  first  to  make  the  tree  good,  and 
leave  the  result  with  God. 

That  "  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness  "  are 
among  those  blessings  that  must  be  sought,  is  very  plain. 
In  this  respect  they  diifer  even  from  knowledge.  Some 
knowledge  is  gathered  unconsciously  and  involuntarily, 
but  the  kingdom  of  God  and  righteousness  can  come  only 
through  the  activity  and  consent  of  the  affections  and  the 
will.  It  Is  also  equally  plain,  that  the  direction  of  the 
activity  to  be  put  forth  in  attaining  these  must  be  within. 
"  The  kingdom  of  God,"  says  our  Saviour,  "  is  within  you." 
It  does  not  consist,  in  any  degree,  in  the  possession  of 
anything.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  wealth,  or  station, 
or  learning,  or  place,  or  time.  It  consists  wholly  in  our 
state  ;  in  what  we  really  are  in  our  relations  to  God  as  he 
is  revealed  in  his  law,  and  in  his  gospel. 

And  such  a  state— a  right  state  in  our  relations  to 
God — is  not  only  to  be  sought,  but  is  the  highest  end 
which  man  can  seek.  That  this  is  so  regarded  by  God, 
is  evident  from  the  very  fact  and  plan  of  redemption. 
All  the  motives  and  efforts  and  energies  of  his  moral  gov- 
ernment have  been,  and  are,  adapted  to  produce  in  man  a 
change  of  sfafe.  For  this  Christ  came  ;  for  this  the  Spirit 
is  given ;  for  this  the  gospel  is  preached ;  for  this  angels 
minister ;  this  causes  joy  in  heaven  ;  in  this  God  is  more 
glorified  than  in  all  the  works  of  his  hands.  What  God 
desires  of  us,  is  a  right  state  of  the  affections  and  the  will 
— that  we  should  take  the  place  of  his  children,  and  de  his 
children.  Such  a  state,  moreover,  is  the  perfection  of  man 
himself  in  that  which  is  most  intimate  and  essential  to 


104  HIGHER  AND    LOWER   GOOD. 

him.  It  constitutes  him  a  centre  of  light  and  of  power. 
It  is  the  brilliancy  of  the  diamond,  and  all  else  is  but  the 
setting. 

Having  thus  seen  what  the  kingdom  of  God  is,  in  what 
direction  we  are  to  seek  it,  and  that  it  is  the  highest  end 
at  which  we  can  aim,  we  now  proceed  to  inquire  whether 
it  is  not  a  general  truth,  that  he  who  in  any  department 
aims  at  and  attains  the  highest  good,  will  also,  and  in  so 
doing,  attain,  not  merely  an  adequate  amount,  but  the 
highest  amount  of  subordinate  good  ?  This  we  suppose 
to  be  a  general  principle,  and  we  propose  to  show  that  it 
is  confirmed,  first,  by  the  Scriptures  ;  secondly,  by  all  that 
we  observe  in  life  ;  and  thirdly,  by  the  very  constitution 
and  processes  of  nature  itself. 

And  first,  if  we  test  this  principle  by  the  Scriptures,  we 
shall  find  it  fully  confirmed  in  the  Old  Testament.  Of 
this  no  more  striking  instance  could  be  given  than  that  of 
Solomon.  When  he  was  permitted  to  ask  what  he  would, 
and  asked  an  understanding  heart,  "  the  speech  pleased 
the  Lord,  that  Solomon  had  asked  this  thing.  And  God 
said  unto  him,  Because  thou  hast  asked  this  thing,  and 
hast  not  asked  for  thyself  long  life  ;  neither  hast  asked 
riches  for  thyself,  nor  hast  asked  the  life  of  thine  enimies; 
but  hast  asked  for  thyself  understanding  to  discern  judg- 
ment ;  behold,  I  have  done  according  to  thy  words ;  lo,  I 
have  given  thee  a  wise  and  an  understanding  heart ;  so 
that  there  was  none  like  thee  before  thee,  neither  after 
thee  shall  any  arise  like  unto  thee.  And  I  have  also 
given  thee  that  which  thou  hast  not  asked,  both  riches,  and 
honor."  He  sought  that  which  was  higher,  and  God  ad- 
ded the  lower. 

But  of  this  principle  the  whole  history  of  the  Israelites 
is  an  exemplification.  During  the  periods  of  the  Judges, 
whenever  they  sought  the  Lord  and  served  him,  they  pros- 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD. 


105 


pered.  The  earth  yielded  her  increase,  and  their  enemies 
were  subdued ;  but  when,  ceasing  to  seek  the  higher 
blessings,  they  turned  to  idolatry,  the  lower  were  also 
removed.  So  in  the  history  of  the  Kings,  whenever  one  of 
them  "  did  that  which  was  right  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord," 
the  Lord  was  with  him  and  made  his  way  prosperous ; 
and  when  one  of  them  "  did  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord," 
disaster  was  sure  to  follow.  This  is  the  one  great  lesson 
taught  by  their  whole  history,  and  intended  for  the  warn- 
ing of  individuals  and  of  nations. 

In  the  New  Testament,  spiritual  blessings  are  more 
regarded;  but  even  there,  this  principle  does  not  fail  of 
being  announced  in  its  general  form.  We  are  told  that 
"godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things,  having  the  promise 
of  the  life  that  now  is"  as  well  as  " of  that  which  is  to 
come.'' 

Being  thus  confirmed  by  Scripture,  let  us  test  this 
principle  by  a  reference  to  the  common  objects  of  desire 
and  pursuit  in  life. 

Health  is  a  subordinate  good.  To  some  extent,  cer- 
tainly, it  is  a  good  in  itself,  but  it  is  chiefly  so  as  enabling 
us  to  perform  fully  the  duties  and  labors  of  life.  How 
then  is  health  best  promoted  ?  Not  by  making  it  a  direct 
object,  and  exercising  for  the  sake  of  exercise,  but  by  seek- 
ing, through  all  the  exercise  of  body  and  mind  which  they 
involve,  to  accomplish  those  higher  ends  for  the  attain- 
ment of  which  health  was  given.  It  was  not  by  attention 
to  health,  but  by  labor,  that  our  fathers  secured  the  con- 
stitutions they  had.  It  is  when  people  have  little  to  do, 
or  do  little,  that  they  become  nervous,  and  make  out  a 
daily  bulletin  of  their  feelings ;  and  if  they  are  not  sick 
think  they  are,  and  in  the  end  become  so.  It  is  recognized 
by  every  physician  as  a  general  principle,  that  the  best 


I06  HIGHER   AND   LOWER    GOOD. 

condition  and  means  of  health  is  such  activity  in  the  pur- 
suit of  other  ends  as  shall  cause  health  to  be  unthought  of. 
Again,  sensitive  pleasure  is  a  subordinate  good,  and 
how  may  this  be  best  obtained  ?  The  body  may  be  used 
either  for  the  higher  purpose  of  promoting  the  moral  ends 
of  life,  or  as  a  machine  with  the  direct  object  of  manufac- 
turing the  various  forms  of  pleasurable  sensation ;  and 
what  we  say  is,  that  it  will  yield  more  of  this  form  of  good 
in  its  higher,  than  in  its  lower  use.  Pleasure  results,  not 
from  the  body  alone,  nor  from  that  which  acts  upon  it 
alone,  but  from  the  relation  of  the  two.  It  is  as  the  music 
from  the  ^olian  harp.  Let  the  harp  be  well  strung,  and 
it  matters  little  what  wind  may  blow.  So  of  the  body.  It 
is  only  when  this  is  well  strung  by  temperance,  and  has 
that  general  vigor  and  perfection  of  all  the  senses  by 
which  it  is  best  fitted  to  serve  the  mind,  that  it  is  most 
perfectly  in  harmony  with  all  those  natural  objects  which 
are  adapted  to  give  it  pleasure.  The  sensitive  organiza- 
tion of  man  was  made  to  respond  to  the  whole  of  nature. 
It  is  all  his  counterpart,  and  natural  inheritance.  But 
when  he  begins  to  make  upon  his  system  drafts  of  artificial 
excitement  for  the  express  purpose  of  pleasure,  his  rela- 
tions to  those  sources  of  temperate  and  lasting  pleasure 
which  God  has  provided  are  changed.  Quiet  and  simple 
pleasures  become  insipid ;  passive  impressions  become 
weaker  ;  stronger  and  still  stronger  excitement  is  required  ; 
and  the  dividends  of  pleasure  are  increased  only  by  draw- 
ing on  the  capital  stock.  The  natural  birthright  of  the 
senses  is  then  rejected — sold  for  a  mess  of  pottage. 
Thenceforward  the  man  knows  nothing  of  sun-risings  and 
sun-settings,  and  the  glories  of  night,  and  the  march  of  the 
seasons,  and  the  singing  of  birds.  Sensation  is  more  and 
more  divorced  from  that  union  with  intellect  and  senti- 
ment by  which  it  may  be  transfigured.      Instead  of  being 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER    GOOD.  lO/ 

mingled  in  the  feast  of  life  as  a  condiment,  it  is  concen- 
trated into  an  unwholesome  drug  that  stimulates  and 
bewilders  its  victim  for  a  time,  and  then  palls  upon  the 
sense.  Even  Epicurus  could  say,  that  the  greatest  amount 
of  pleasure  could  be  reached  only  by  temperance. 

Thus  it  is  that  the  use  of  the  sensitive  organization  for 
a  purpose  lower  than  that  for  which  it  was  intended,  is  not 
only  wickedness  but  folly.  This  point  should  be  fully 
settled  by  every  young  man,  for  it  is  just  here  that  many 
make  shipwreck. 

We  next  inquire  how  this  principle  applie^  to  the  ac- 
quisition of  wealth.  Would  a  lawyer,  or  a  physician,  or  an 
artist  gain  wealth,  how  will  he  do  it  most  successfully? 
Certainly  by  attaining  something  higher — great  excellence 
in  his  profession  or  skill  in  his  art — and  then  wealth  will 
flow  in  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  if  any  should  say  that 
the  skill  is  subordinate  to  the  wealth,  let  me  speak  of  a  cha- 
racter for  prudence,  for  energy,  for  high  integrity  and  honor, 
for  righteousness  generally.  To  such  a  character  wealth  is 
certainly  subordinate,  and  yet  the  cultivation  of  that  will 
be  found  one  of  the  surest  ways  of  acquiring  wealth.  This 
includes  all  that  is  meant  by  the  proverb,  that  "  honesty 
is  the  best  policy,"  and  something  more.  Not  only  is 
honesty  the  best  policy,  but  there  is  a  tendency  in  all 
righteousness,  or,  as  the  Scriptures  term  it,  wisdom,  to 
produce  wealth  and  the  outward  means  of  enjoyment. 
"  Length  of  days  is  in  her  right  hand,  and  in  her  left  hand 
riches  and  honor."  Righteousness  must  exclude  all  habits 
of  vice  and  of  vain  and  injurious  expense ;  it  would  insure 
industry  and  a  sense  of  responsibility,  and  would  secure 
that  confidence  which  is  so  important  an  element  of  suc- 
cess with  business  men. 

In  the  present  disordered  state  of  things,  there  may  be, 
and  are  exceptions  to  this  in  individual  cases  ;  but,  on  a 


I08  HIGHER  AND   LOWER  GOOD. 

large  scale,  where  alone  the  principle  can  be  fairly  tested, 
there  can  be  no  exception.  Let  a  nation,  let  this  nation 
become  righteous,  and  it  is  as  certain  as  any  law  in  phy- 
sics, that  it  would  be  the  most  effectual  means  of  increasing 
its  wealth  and  worldly  prosperity.  The  heavy  weights  of 
crime  and  pauperism,  that  now  drag  society  down,  would 
fall  off;  its  productive  power  would  be  greatly  increased; 
property  would  be  more  valuable  as  more  secure  ;  and  the 
imagination  can  hardly  conceive  the  extent  to  which  such 
a  nation  might  enjoy  all  that  can  make  this  life  happy. 

Again,  how  may  a  man  best  take  care  of  and  extend 
his  reputation  ?  Not  by  aiming  at  it  directly,  by  anxiously 
nursing  it,  eager  to  show  every  unfavorable  rumor  to  be 
false,  and  to  fan  every  spark  of  good  opinion  into  a  flame ; 
but  by  going  on  in  an  independent  course  of  duty,  leaving 
unfounded  reports  to  die  out  of  themselves,  and  the  sparks 
to  kindle  into  a  flame,  or  not,  as  they  may. 

And  if  this  be  true  of  mere  reputation,  it  is  much  more 
so  of  any  great  and  lasting  fame.  The  highest  form  of 
greatness,  and,  of  course,  the  highest  legitimate  fame,  can 
never  belong  to  a  man  who  has  fame  for  his  chief  object. 
He  is  no  true  artist,  who  pursues  his  art  for  the  sake  of 
fame.  The  patriot,  whose  highest  object  is  fame,  is  no 
patriot. 

Health,  pleasure,  wealth,  reputation,  fame,  these  are  all 
subordinate  objects,  and  to  them  all  the  principle  now  laid 
down  applies.  As  a  general  rule,  they  are  best  attained 
when  some  higher  end  is  the  immediate  object  of  pursuit. 

Here,  then,  we  have  a  great  law  for  human  action.  It 
is  also  a  law  which  God  has  prescribed  for  himself,  which 
runs  through  nature,  and  is  incorporated  into  all  the  pro- 
cesses and  methods  of  his  natural  and  moral  government.'* 
Does  he  always,  in  securing  higher  ends,  incidentally 
secure  the  lower  ? 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD.  iqq 

In  securing  specific  ends,  and  giving  unity  to  his  works, 
God  has  two  methods.  One  of  these  we  may  call  the 
method  of  additions,  the  other  that  of  development.  In 
the  first,  he  passes  onward  and  upward,  from  step  to  step ; 
at  each  step  adding  something  new,  but  also  bringing  for- 
ward, either  in  itself  or  its  results,  all  that  had  preceded. 

To  illustrate  this,  we  must  go  back  to  the  beginning 
of  time,  when  we  may  suppose  matter  to  have  existed 
chaotically  in  space,  having  properties  but  not  laws.  And 
it  may  be  well  for  our  present  purpose,  to  represent  the 
world  to  be  constructed  as  a  pyramid  with  a  broad  base, 
and  ascending  by  successive  steps  or  platforms,  each  above 
less  extensive  than  that  below. 

What  then,  in  such  a  state,  must  have  been  the  first 
and  lowest  step  by  which  matter  could  have  been  rendered 
available  ?  Evidently  it  was  to  bring  it  together  into 
masses ;  and  so  the  first  law  in  the  order  of  nature,  if  not 
of  time,  must  have  been  that  of  gravitation.  This  lies  at 
the  foundation.  It  is  simple,  universal,  and  seems  to  per- 
vade all  space  ;  but,  acting  alone,  it  would  simply  hold  the 
particles  in  proximity. 

The  object  next  higher  would  be,  to  form  from  these 
loose  particles  solid  bodies.  This  is  done  by  what  is 
called  the  attraction  of  cohesion  ;  and  bodies  united  by  this 
will  form  the  second  platform.  But  here  it  will  be  observed, 
that  the  higher  includes  the  lower.  Not  all  particles  that 
gravitate  cohere,  but  all  that  cohere  gravitate. 

The  object  next  higher  would  be,  to  cause  particles  not 
merely  to  cohere,  but  to  combine  and  to  form  compounds. 
Bodies  thus  united  would  form  the  third  platform.  But 
here,  again,  this  higher  is  not  attained  without  the  two 
lower.  All  bodies  united  by  chemical  affinity  also  cohere 
and  gravitate. 

The  next  higher  and  more  specific  object  would  be, 


no  HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD. 

the  production  of  regular  forms,  as  in  crystals  ;  but  every 
body  that  has  a  regular  form  also  gravitates  and  coheres, 
and  has  its  particles  united  by  chemical  affinity. 

These  are  the  first  four  platforms  in  the  upward  pro- 
gress of  the  creation,  and  they  include  inorganic  matter. 

The  platform  next  higher  is  composed  of  regular  forms 
endowed  with  organic  life.  This  includes  all  plants — the 
whole  vegetable  creation.  But  in  every  plant  we  find  not 
only  organic  life,  and  regular  form,  but  also  chemical 
affinity,  and  cohesion,  and  gravitation. 

The  next  step  upward  is  to  sensitive  life — that  which 
is  capable  of  enjoyment  and  of  suffering,  with  the  instincts 
necessary  for  its  preservation.  This  greatly  narrows  our 
platform  ;  but  here  again  the  attainment  of  the  higher 
both  includes  and  presupposes  that  of  the  lower.  In 
every  being  possessed  of  sensitive  life,  we  find  also  organic 
life,  and  regular  form,  and  chemical  affinity,  and  cohesion 
and  gravitation. 

There  is  but  one  step  more.  It  is  that  which  carries  us 
from  the  sensitive  life  with  its  instincts,  up  to  the  higher 
rational  and  moral  life  of  man.  Here  we  find  every  end 
attained  that  we  had  below,  and  something  added.  Man  is 
subject  to  every  law  to  which  the  minutest  portion  of  mat- 
ter is  subject,  and  has,  generically,  every  characteristic 
of  every  order  of  being  from  the  animalcule  up  to  himself. 
In  him  we  find  operating  gravitation,  and  cohesion,  and 
chemical  affinity;  in  him  we  find  regular  form,  and  sensitive 
life,  and  instinct,  and,  added  to  these,  the  higher  gifts  of 
reason  and  of  conscience,  by  which  he  is  made  in  the 
image  of  God. 

Thus  do  WQ  pass  from  that  which  is  subject  to  law,  to 

that  which  also  comprehends  law.     Thus  is  man  placed  on 

the  summit  of  the  pyramid  of  these  lower  works,  and  fitted 

to  link  himself  with  that  which  is  above.     Thus  is  he  the 

15 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER  GOOD.  m 

natural  ruler,  the  epitome  and  crown  of  this  lower  world. 
Thus  is  he  fitted,  as  partaking  of  the  nature  of  all,  to  be 
the  representative  and  priest  of  everything  below  him, 
and  to  gather  up  and  give  a  voice  to  that  inarticulate 
praise  which  goes  up  from  every  part  of  it  to  the  Creator. 
Thus  it  is  that  the  seven  steps  of  the  creation  up  which 
I  have  endeavored  to  lead  you,  may  be  compared  to  seven 
notes  in  music  sounded  successively,  and  then  in  harmony. 
In  the  first  step,  there  was  a  single  note  ;  in  the  second, 
the  same  note  was  taken  up  and  another  that  accorded 
with  it  was  added;  in  the  third,  another  still  was  added  to 
these,  till  man  came,  and  everything  was  prepared  for  the 
full  chorus  that  rang  through  the  arches  of  heaven  when 
the  morning  stars  sang  together  and  all  the  sons  of  God 
shouted  for  joy. 

We  see  then  how  perfectly,  in  this  method. of  addi- 
tions, God  adheres  to  the  principle  which  we  are  now 
considering.  He  never  does  secure,  according  to  the  con- 
stitution which  he  has  adopted  it  would  seem  impossiple 
he  ever  should  secure,  a  higher  end  or  good,  without 
securing  at  the  same  time,  incidentally,  every  subordinate 
end  and  good. 

But,  besides  the  method  of  additions,  I  have  spoken 
of  that  of  development.  This  applies  only  to  organized 
beings,  each  of  which  is  a  system  having  parts  and  func- 
tions, some  of  which  are  subordinate  and  others  ultimate. 
To  such  a  system  nothing  is  added  from  without,  except 
as  there  is  development  from  within.  It  supposes  some- 
thing to  be  enveloped  ;  and  that  to  which  all  the  other 
parts  are  subservient,  will  be  that  which  is  originally 
enclosed  in  all  the  rest,  and  which  is  the  last  to  come  to 
perfection.  So  it  is  with  the  brain  in  man,  so  with  the 
flower  and  the  fruit  in  the  plant. 

But  that  the  principle  in  question    must   hold   under 


112  HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD. 

this  method  is  evident  because,  here,  that  which  is  highest 
becomes  perfect  only  through  the  ministration  of  the  parts 
that  are  lower ;  and  the  more  perfect  the  parts  are  that 
minister,  the  more  efficient  must  their  ministration  be. 
This  is  the  general  rule.  Limitations  there  may  be,  but 
not  exceptions.  Would  God  secure  to  any  man  the  high- 
est, the  best  balanced,  and  the  longest  continued  action 
of  the  intellectual  and  moral  powers,  he  does  it  only  by 
giving  him  a  sound  physical  constitution.  When  Moses, 
the  servant  of  the  Lord,  was  a  hundred  and  twenty  years 
old,  "  his  eye  was  not  dim,  nor  his  natural  force  abated." 
So  has  God  constituted  every  organic  being,  that  "  if  one 
member  suffer,  all  the  members  suffer  with  it,  and  if  one 
member  rejoice,  all  the  members  rejoice  with  it ;  "  and  if 
he  would  secure  the  perfection  of  the  higher  parts  that  are 
ministered  unto,  he  must  do  it  by  securing  the  perfection 
of  the  lower  parts  that  minister. 

So  far,  then,  as  we  can  observe  the  works  and  methods 
of  God,  there  is  no  exception  to  the  principle  now  stated. 
Within  the  sphere  of  this  world,  it  is  evidently  a  great, 
guiding  idea,  in  all  that  he  does.  It  was  so  in  its  con- 
struction, giving  it  unity;  it  is  so  in  its  government,  and 
how  much  farther  it  may  extend,  we  cannot  say.  It  may 
be,  taking  the  universe  together,  and  going  back  to  the 
very  birth  of  time — not  of  our  time,  but  of  all  time — that 
the  first  world,  or  sun,  or  system  that  came  into  being,  gave 
the  keynote  to  the  whole.  It  may  be  that  that  note  has 
been  repeated  with  additions  from  that  time  onward,  till 
at  length  it  may  require  the  ken  of  the  highest  archangel 
to  read  the  extended  scale,  and  the  voices,  as  of  many 
waters,  that  surround  the  throne,  to  utter  the  swelling 
anthem. 

But,  it  may  be  asked,  is  not  the  great  doctrine  of  vol- 
untary self-denial,  a  doctrine  taught  equally  by  nature  and 


HIGHER   AND   LOWER  GOOD.  113 

by  Christianity,  an  exception  to  this  principle  ?  Is  it  not 
of  the  very  essence  of  self-denial,  that  instead  of  attaining 
a  subordinate  good  by  pursuing  one  that  is  higher,  we 
attain  the  higher  only  by  renouncing  the  subordinate  ? 

This  is  a  difficulty  ;  but  it  will  be  observed  that  it 
arises  wholly  from  the  disorder  and  unnatural  state -intro- 
duced by  sin.  This  disorder  and  perversion  are  some- 
times so  great,  as  in  martyrdom,  that  it  is  necessary  to 
sacrifice  every  subordinate  good,  even  life  itself,  for  the 
attainment  of  that  which  is  higher.  Paul  found  it  neces- 
sary to  suffer,  and  did  suffer,  the  loss  of  all  things  for 
Christ's  sake. 

Still,  a  fair  statement  of  what  is  required  by  the  law  of 
Christian  self-denial,  will  show  that  such  cases  are  but 
exceptions.  This  law  is  not  arbitrary.  It  is  no  law  of 
fanaticism,  or  enthusiasm,  or  self-torture.  It  simply  re- 
quires, first,  that  we  deny  ourselves  everything  that  is 
sinful  in  itself;  and,  second,  that  we  deny  ourselves  sub- 
ordinate good  not  sinful  in  itself  only  so  far  as  it  would 
exclude  a  higher  good.  The  first  of  these  is  no  exception 
to  the  principle  of  the  text,  because  pleasures,  sinful  in 
themselves,  are  not  a  subordinate  but  an  incompatible 
good — incompatible  with  any  true  good.  Under  the  sec- 
ond requisition  there  may  be  exceptions,  but  they  commend 
themselves  to  our  reason  and  give  us  our  true  law  at  a 
point  where  there  has  been  serious  error.  The  Christian 
may  attain  any  subordinate  end,  as  wealth,  may  enjoy  any 
subordinate  pleasure,  as  that  of  the  senses,  to  the  highest 
point  of  non-interference  with  that  which  is  higher  and 
better.  You  are  at  liberty,  my  friends,  to  pursue  wealth, 
and  pleasure,  and  fame,  as  far  as  you  please,  provided  that 
pursuit  be  not  incompatible  with  the  attainment  of  a  higher 
good.     You  are  at  perfect  liberty  to  follow  amusements  to 


114  HIGHER  AND   LOWER  GOOD. 

any  extent,  if  there  be  nothing  higher  or  better,  which,  as 
men,  and  as  Christians,  you  can  do. 

While,  then,  we  admit  that  exceptions  may  arise  in  this 
way,  still,  the  general  rule  will  hold  that  suboidinate  good 
is  best  attained  by  the  pursuit  of  that  which  is  higher. 

Having  thus  illustrated  and  confirmed  the  general 
doctrine  implied  in  the  text,  from  the  Scriptures,  from  what 
we  observe  in  life,  and  from  the  constitution  of  nature,  I 
wish  to  put  into  your  hands  an  infallible  chart.  Here  it 
is  :  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteous- 
ness." Since  the  world  began,  there  was  never  a  sentence 
penned  or  uttered  which  I  should  prefer  to  give  you  as 
your  guide.  In  it  is  the  essence  of  all  wisdom  for  man, 
for  the  individual  and  for  society,  the  wisdom  of  all  reform 
and  of  all  growth. 

In  following  this  chart  you  will,  first,  see  the  necessity 
of  seeking  something.  "  Seek  ye,"  says  our  Saviour, 
"seek."  Have  an  aim,  definite,  specific.  Without  this 
there  can  be  no  comprehensive  plans,  no  unity,  no  true 
decision,  no  earnestness,  no  moral  power.  The  whole 
history  of  the  race,  the  arrangements  of  nature,  the  con- 
stitution of  man,  all  proclaim  that  man  can  reach  his  true 
good  only  by  the  voluntary  activity  of  his  highest  powers  in 
seeking  a  chosen  end.  Some  things  you  may  have  with- 
out seeking  ;  some  you  may  seek,  and  not  find ;  but  there 
are  things,  and  those  which  you  most  need,  that  you  will 
never  find  without  seeking. 

Seek  ye — ye,  who  are  placed  on  the  summit  of  the 
pyramid  of  these  lower  works  ;  ye,  who  may,  if  you  will, 
link  yourselves  with  that  which  is  still  higher ;  ye,  who 
have  but  one  life  in  which  to  make  the  great  choice  ;  ye^ 
who  have  been  redeemed  by  the  precious  blood  of  the  Son 
of  God,  seek  ye. 

But  what  will  ye  seek  ?     This  is  the  great  question, 


HIGHER  AND   LOWER  GOOD.  II  5 

here  and  now.     What  will  ye  seek?    What  will  ye  seek 
first  "i     Not  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  its  bearing  upon  this 
question,  have  I  asked  your  attention  to  the  preceding  dis- 
cussion.    I  wished  that  my  appeal  to  you  to  seek  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,  might  come,  not  only  from  his  word,  but 
that  it  might  be  seconded  by  a  voice  from  all  his  works. 
I  wished  you  to  see  that  the  principle  involved  is  so  in- 
wrought into  all  those  works,  that  it  cannot  fail  to  avenge 
itself  upon  those  who  shall  disregard  it.     I  wished  you  to 
see  that  the  works  of  God  are  but  as  a  great  whispering- 
gallery,  along  which,  if  you  will  but  put  your  ear  to  it,  the 
words  of  Christ  are  constantly  echoing.  Seek,  then,  not  that 
which  is  below  you — you  were  not  made  for  that — but  that 
"  which   is   above,  where  Christ  sitteth,  at  the  right  hand 
of  God."     Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  right- 
eousness.    Seek  it  first  in  the  order  of  time.     Let  no  busi- 
ness preclude  it.     Seek  it  first  in  the  strength  of  that  pur- 
pose by  which  you  devote  yourselves  to  its  pursuit.     The 
kingdom  of  God !     His  glorious  and  eternal  kingdom  ! 
His  righteousness  !     The  moral  likeness  of  God  !     Seek 
these,  and  all  other  things,  tmly  good,  shall  be  added  unto 
you.     That  this  shall  be  so,  there  comes  a  voice,  not  from 
the  word  of  God  only,  but  from  the  very  beginning  of 
time,  and  it  is  uttered  with  increased  force  at  every  step  in 
the  process  of  the  creation.     No,  my  friends,  it  is  not  / 
that  speak  to  you  ;  it  is  the  whole  process  and  method  and 
structure  of  the  creation  of  God.     For  Him  all  his  works 
testify.     When  the  Saviour  says,  "  Seek  ye  first  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  his  righteousness  ;  and  all  these  things 
shall  be   added  unto  you,"  there  is  not   one  of  them  that 
does  not  utter  its  Amen. 

And  why  should  not  he  who  attains  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  his  righteousness,  have  all  other  things  added  ? 
It  must  be  so.     If  there  may  be  exceptions  and  limitations 


Il6  HIGHER  AND   LOWER   GOOD. 

in  the  present  temporary  scene  of  sin  and  disorder,  I  be- 
seech you  think  not  so  of  God  as  to  suppose  there  can  be 
any  ultimate  exception,  "  Though  it  tarry,  wait  for  it ;  it 
will  surely  come  ;  it  will  not  tarry."  Think  not  of  God  as 
unwilling  that  his  creatures  should  enjoy  all  from  his 
works  that  they  can  enjoy,  without  sin.  Vast  as  this  uni- 
verse is,  he  has  made  it,  the  whole  of  it,  for  his  creatures. 
He  owns,  not  the  earth  only  and  the  planets,  but  the  sun, 
and  the  milky-way,  and  the  far-off  nebulae.  And  what 
use  has  he  for  all  these  but  to  make  his  creatures  happy  ? 
And  whom  should  he  make  happy  but  those  who,  in  his 
appointed  way,  seek  first  his  kingdom  and  righteousness  ? 
So  doing,  you  shall  become  his  children  ;  and  if  children, 
then  heirs  ;  and  then  it  is  the  voice  of  reason  as  well  as  of 
Scripture,  that  utters  that  promise — the  most  magnificent 
that  language  can  embody — ye  "  shall  inherit  all  things." 
Ye  shall  be  children  and  citizens  in  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  shall  have  the  free  range  and  use  of  all  his  works. 
The  clouds  and  darkness  which  now  seem  to  rest  over  his 
moral  government,  you  shall  see  roll  away  ;  and  from  the 
first  faint  whisper  at  the  birth  of  time,  to  the  full  and  tri- 
umphant chorus  of  a  finished  creation  and  redemption,  you 
shall  catch  and  repeat  the  song  that  shall  come  up  to  God 
from  all  his  works  of  creation  and  providence  and  grace. 
With  wonder  and  joy  you  shall  witness  every  new  step  in 
the  process  of  creative  power,  and  of  the  manifestation  of 
the  divine  character.  You  shall  be  present  at  that  next 
and  higher  manifestation  to  which  all  things  are  now  tend- 
ing and  hastening,  and  of  which  he  speaks  when  he  says, 
"  Behold,  I  make  all  things  new."  You  shall  sit  down  at 
the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb. 


VIL 


THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 

Even  the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and  the  young  men  shall  utterly  fail ; 
but  they  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength  ;  they  shall 
mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles  ;  they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary  j  and 
they  shall  walk  and  not  faint.— Isaiah,  xl.  30,  31. 

IS  there  anything  that  begins  to  be,  and  grows, 
that  does  not  reach  an  appointed  limit,  and  then 
go  back  ?  Is  not  the  daily  movement  of  the  sun  in 
the  heavens  the  fit  emblem  of  every  living  thing  that  he 
looks  upon  in  his  circuit?  He  comes  out  of  his  chamber 
in  the  morning  ;  he  climbs  the  eastern  sky  ;  he  reaches 
his  meridian  height,  and  then  declines  to  his  setting.  So 
it  is  with  every  blade  of  grass,  with  every  shrub,  with  every 
tree  ;  so  with  every  insect  and  animal,  from  the  animalcule 
to  the  elephant ;  so  it  is  with  the  physical  system  of  man, 
and  so  with  his  mental  faculties.  And  not  only  do  change 
and  decay  affect  every  organized  being,  but  also  the  em- 
pires of  men  and  their  monuments,  and  even  the  face  of 
nature  itself  "  And  surely  the  mountain  falling  cometh 
to  nought,  and  the  rock  is  removed  out  of  his  place  ;  the 
waters  wear  the  stones ;  thou  washest  away  the  things  that 
grow  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth  ;  and  thou  destroyest  the 
hope  of  man."  Throughout  this  universe  nothing  is  at 
rest.  There  is  permanence  only  from  change.  The  sta- 
bility of  the  heavens  is  from  their  motion  ;  the  permanence 
of  our  bodies  is  by  constant  waste  and  supply.  Whether 
(he  movements  in  the  heavens  will  be  perpetual  we  know 

***  August  i,  1858. 


Il8  THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 

not,  but  in  the  march  of  life  every  step  is  towards  death. 
The  movement  there  tends  to  a  cessation,  and  that  cessa- 
tion is  death. 

It  is  this  certainty  of  decay  that  gives  a  tinge  of  sad- 
ness to  the  scenes  that  are  most  full  of  life.  In  the  deep- 
est green  of  the  mountain-side,  the  prophetic  eye  sees  the 
"sere  and  yellow  leaf;"  in  the  gayest  assembly  of  the 
young,  it  sees  the  gray  hair  and  tottering  age. 

But  to  this  law  we  find  an  exception  in  the  Bible 
representation  of  the  moral  growth  and  progress  of  the 
righteous.  We  are  told  that  "the  path  of  the  just  is  as 
the  shining  light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  per- 
fect day" — that  "  the  righteous  shall  hold  on  his  way,  and 
he  that  hath  clean  hands  shall  be  stronger  and  stronger  " — 
— that  "  they  shall  go  from  strength  to  strength  " — that 
"  they  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles  ;  they  shall 
run,  and  not  be  weary  ;  and  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint.'' 

So,  likewise,  the  kingdom  of  Christ  is  not  to  be  subject 
to  the  decays  of  other  kingdoms.  "  Of  the  increase  of  his 
government  and  peace  there  shall  be  no  end."  "  And  the 
kingdom  shall  not  be  left  to  other  people,  but  it  shall  break 
in  pieces  and  consume  all  other  kingdoms,  and  it  shall 
stand  forever."  "  His  throne  shall  be  established  forever 
as  the  moon,  and  as  a  faithful  witness  in  heaven."  "His 
dominion  is  an  everlasting  dominion,  which  shall  not  pass 
away;  and  his  kingdom  that  which  shall  not  be  destroyed." 

Here,  in  those  who  wait  on  God,  we  have  an  alleged 
exception  to  the  law  of  decay. 

What  then  is  it  to  wait  on  God  ?  It  is  not  to  wait/^r 
him  in  an  indolent  passivity.  It  supposes  that  "  all  our 
springs  are  in  him,"  and  that  there  is  an  open  channel  of 
communication  between  him  and  us  ;  so  that  the  resources 
of  his  omnipotence  may  flow  in  to  us,  and  supplement  our 
tveaknesses  and  infumities.  Its  elements  are  expectation 
'5* 


THE  ONE   EXCEPTION.  Ho 

and  trust.  It  implies  ends  sought  in  sympathy  with  God, 
and  a  sense  of  dependence  on  him  actively  expressed.  It 
is  as  when  a  captive,  who  cannot  redeem  himself,  waits  on 
and  earnestly  implores  the  help  of  one  who  can  redeem 
him.  We  do  not  suffice  to  ourselves.  On  every  side  we 
are  surrounded  by  agents  and  elements  that  we  cannot 
control.  Beset  where  we  stand,  opposed  when  we  would 
go  forward,  we  find  ourselves  powerless  in  the  presence 
of  obstacles  and  foes.  Then  we  wait  upon  God ;  our 
strength  is  renewed,  and  we  go  forward.  Plainly,  those 
"who  wait  on  the  Lord"  are  the  same  as  "the  just," 
"the  righteous;  "  and  the  doctrine  is,  that  the  moral  and 
spiritual  nature  of  man  is  an  exception  to  everything  else 
on  this  earth ;  and  that  moral  goodness  not  only  need  not 
wane,  but  that  it  may  have  an  uninterrupted  progress. 

To  establish  the  doctrine  just  stated  will  be  our  first 
object;  and  to  do  this,  we  must  find  the  ground  on  which 
the  exception  is  made.  This  is  found  in  the  very  nature 
of  moral  goodness.  Moral  goodness  has  its  seat  in  the 
affections  and  the  will,  and  these  do  not  so  decay  with 
the  strength  of  the  body  and  the  power  of  the  intellect, 
that  that  goodness  is  impaired. 

It  is  a  brave  and  a  beautiful  thing,  if  indeed  it  be  not 
rather  sublime,  when  a  man,  in  the  fulness  of  health  and 
of  strength,  is  required  to  abjure  his  faith  in  Christ,  and  in 
the  face  of  the  tyrant  he  says  boldly,  and  even  defiantly, 
No.  But  when  the  inquisition  puts  its  victim  on  the  rack, 
and  the  power  of  endurance  is  tested  to  the  utmost,  and 
there  remains  only  strength  of  mind  to  apprehend  the 
question,  and  only  strength  of  body  to  whisper  the  feeblest 
No,  there  is  in  that  JVo,  a  power  that  is  mighty  in  propor- 
tion to  the  very  feebleness  of  its  utterance.  Yea,  if  we 
suppose  any  power  of  apprehension,  and  of  expression 
even    by  the  feeblest  sign,  to  remain,  the  indication  of 


I20  THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 

firm  principle  and  enduring  affection  and  moral  goodness 
can  become  strongest  and  most  affecting  only  at  the  point 
where  the  powers  of  the  body  and  of  the  mind  flicker  on 
the  very  verge  of  death,  and  at  the  moment  when  they  go 
out  in  its  darkness.  The  love  of  the  Saviour  for  this 
world  reached  the  crowning  point  of  its  expression  only  at 
the  moment  when  he  "  bowed  his  head  and  gave  up  the 
ghost." 

In  these  cases  the  exhaustion  and  feebleness  are 
indeed  from  torture,  but  the  principle  is  the  same  in  natu- 
ral decay.  Had  the  affections  of  that  aged  and  dying 
Christian  grown  weaker  as  his  powers  decayed,  who, 
when  he  was  asked  if  he  knew  his  friend  who  spoke  to 
him,  said,  "  No," — if  he  knew  his  children,  "  No," — if  he 
knew  his  wife,  "  No," — if  he  knew  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
"Yes,"  and  a  smile  from  heaven  lighted  up  his  counte- 
nance; "Yes,  he  is  all  my  hope."  In  such  cases,  the 
embers  of  a  wasting  animal  life  gather  over  the  "  vital 
spark  of  heavenly  flame,"  and  obscure  it.  It  seems  to  be 
lost ;  but  when  it  can  be  thus  reached,  as  sometimes  it 
may,  it  is  seen  to  be  all  aglow,  and  the  light  which  it  shoots 
up  is  but  the  brighter  from  the  darkness  out  of  which  it 
comes. 

It  is  conceded  that  the  strength  of  virtue  and  of  trust 
are  most  tried  in  adversity,  and  when  the  natural  desires 
are  thwarted.  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
him,"  is  the  strongest  possible  expression  of  confidence. 
Let,  then,  the  decay  of  the  powers  from  age  commence 
and  go  on,  and  let  there  be  perfect  acquiescence  in  this 
till  their  apparent  cessation  ;  and  how  does  the  power  of 
goodness,  as  thus  seen,  differ  from  that  which  is  seen  in 
submission  to  a  voluntary  death,  and  in  holding  on,  through 
exhaustion  from  torture,  till  the  very  end .? 

The    truth    seems   to  be,  that    an  accountable  being, 


THE   ONE  EXCEPTION.  121 

remaining  such,  can  be  placed  in  no  circumstances  in 
which  moral  goodness,  the  principle  of  duty,  of  submission, 
of  faith,  may  not  be  brought  into  exercise  ;  and  if  exer- 
cised, then,  by  a  natural  law,  must  they  be  strengthened ; 
and  the  more  difficult  and  trying  the  circumstances  are, 
the  more  strength  may  be  gained.  It  is  through  and  in 
the  very  weakness  of  the  natural  powers,  that  the  moral 
powers  may  show  their  strength.  Only  at  the  moment  of 
the  seeming  triumph  of  the  tyrant,  of  disease,  of  decay,  can 
humanity  pay  its  highest  homage  to  goodness  and  to  God. 
In  the  struggle  of  men  against  evil  and  for  the  right, 
there  is  doubtless  given  the  special  and  supernatural  aid 
of  God  j  but,  in  addition  to  this,  it  would  seem,  from  what 
has  been  said,  that  the  exception  made  by  the  Scriptures 
to  the  great  natural  law  of  decay,  is  itself  sustained  by  a 
natural  law. 

Having  thus  shown  that  there  maybe  constant  progress 
in  moral  goodness,  we  next  inquire  whether  such  progress 
is  not  a  condition  of  the  highest  possible  strength  and  per- 
fection of  the  intellectual  faculties.  If  we  regard  man 
simply  as  intellectual,  will  he  not,  both  as  an  individual 
and  as  a  race,  mount  higher,  in  proportion  as  he  cultivates 
his  moral  powers,  and  waits  upon  God  ? 

This  is  a  question  that  deeply  concerns  every  scholar ; 
and  that  it  should  be  answered  rightly,  is  of  much  conse- 
quence, both  because  it  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  right  edu- 
cation, and  of  all  true  self-culture ;  and  because  there  is, 
to  some  extent,  an  impression  that  skepticism  and  wicked- 
ness are  naturally  associated  with  intellectual  power. 

In  what  has  been  said  it  has  been  taken  for  granted 
that  the  powers  of  the  intellect  really  decay.  This  may 
be  doubted.  Of  mind  in  its  essence  we  know  nothing,  and 
of  the  laws  of  its  connection  with  the  body,  very  little. 


122  THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 

What  seems  decay  may  be  from  the  body,  and  be  only  as 
a  temporary  drowsiness.  Certain  it  is  that  the  intellectual 
are  indispensable  to  the  moral  powers  ;  that  in  the  nature 
and  sphere  of  each,  there  is  equally  a  provision  for  an  in- 
definite progress  ;  and  that  the  aged  must  be  supposed  to 
carry  into  another  state,  not  the  imbecility  of  a  second  child- 
hood, but  the  results  of  their  mental,  as  well  as  of  their 
moral  action.  Still,  these  powers  do  secfn  to  decay  ;  be- 
tween them  and  the  moral  powers,  as  has  been  shown, 
there  is  a  broad  distinction  ;  and  what  we  say,  in  either 
case,  is,  that  the  condition  of  their  highest  attainment  is 
the  cultivation  of  the  moral  powers. 

That  this  is  true  we  believe,  first,  because  of  the 
obstacles  to  intellectual  growth  and  progress  that  would  be 
removed  by  the  ascendency  of  the  moral  powers. 

These  obstacles  are  prejudice  and  vice,  both  of  which 
are  inseparable  from  the  sway  of  passion  and  appetite,  and 
both  of  which  would  disappear  in  the  full  ascendency  of 
the  moral  powers.  If  prejudice  may  not  be  said  to  weaken 
the  mental  powers,  it  misdirects,  perverts,  and  limits  their 
action.  The  power  of  the  eye  is  one  thing  ;  a  clear  atmo- 
sphere is  another.  Prejudice  is,  to  the  mental  eye,  an  in- 
distinct, a  colored,  a  distorting  medium.  But  while  pre- 
judice misdirects,  vice  enfeebles,  or  wholly  prevents  the 
action  of  the  intellect.  From  the  drunkard,  the  glutton, 
the  licentious  man,  the  gambler,  we  do  not  look  for  con- 
tinuous thought,  or  for  any  rich  fruit  of  intellectual  cul- 
ture. They  have  the  instincts  and  sagacity  of  the  animal, 
heightened  by  their  connection  with  rational  powers  ;  but 
they  are  engrossed  by  their  vices,  and  their  intellects  have 
no  range  beyond  the  activity  necessary  for  self-gratifica- 
tion. Through  these  vices  much  of  the  finest  intellect  of 
the  race  has  been  lost.  And  so  it  must  be.  If  the  swal- 
low would  fly,  its  wing  must  not  be  draggled  in  the  mud  ; 


THE  ONE   EXCEPTION.  I23 

if  the  eagle  would  continue  to  mount  up,  the  animal  thai 
is  sucking  his  blood  must  drop  from  under  his  wing. 

But  that  the  intellect  will  be  most  successfully  culti- 
vated through  the  moral  powers,  appears,  secondly,  be- 
cause it  is  lower  than  those  powers,  and  subordinate  to 
them  ;  and  because,  in  securing  a  higher  good,  we  best 
secure  that  which  is  subordinate  and  lower. 

That  the  intellect  is  lower  than  the  moral  powers  ap- 
pears, because  it  is  conditional  for  their  activity.  And 
here  we  find  a  criterion  which  may  be  universally  applied 
in  determining,  both  in  matter  and  in  mind,  what  agencies 
and  powers  are  higher,  and  what  are  lower.  Always  that 
which  is  conditional  for  another  thing,  and  so  serves  it,  is 
lower  than  that  thing.  The  foundation  of  a  house  is  con- 
ditional for  a  house,  and  is  lower,  in  more  senses  than  one. 
It  is  indispensable,  but  of  no  value  without  something  be- 
yond itself.  So  of  all  the  powers  and  agencies  of  inani- 
mate matter.  They  are  conditional  for  vegetable  life,  and 
are  lower.  So,  again,  vegetable  is  conditional  for  animal 
life,  and  it  is  lower ;  so  with  the  heart  and  the  brain  ;  so 
with  the  body  and  the  mind;  and  so  with  the  intellect  and 
the  moral  powers.  The  intellect  is  conditional  for  choice 
and  activity,  in  which  are  the  end  of  man,  but  it  does  not 
choose.  It  does  not  even  know  ends,  as  such.  It  can 
judge  of  their  attainability,  and  of  the  fitness  of  means ; 
but  the  apprehension  and  choice  of  an  end,  and  especially, 
that  highest  act  of  the  mind,  the  choice  of  a  supreme  end, 
belongs  to  a  higher  power. 

The  inferiority  of  the  intellect  is  also  manifest,  because 
it  is  an  instrumental  and  not  a  governing  power. 

We  cannot  too  carefully  discriminate  those  powers  in 
us,  by  which  we  choose  ends,  from  those  that  are  merely 
instruments  in  their  attainment.  In  the  one  is  wisdom,  in 
the  other  talent ;  in  the  one  is  character,  in  the  other  capa- 


124  THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 

city  ;  in  the  one,  the  man  himself  acts  in  his  whole  being, 
and  very  personality  j  in  the  other,  the  faculties  play  on 
the  surface.  The  end  is  already  chosen,  and  the  whole 
work  is  simply  executive.  But,  as  has  been  said,  the  in- 
tellect does  not  choose.  It  is  an  axe,  a  saw,  a  hammer,  a 
a  piece  of  machinery  to  be  worked  by  a  power  back  of 
tself.  It  is  a  Swiss  mercenary,  that  may  be  enlisted  in 
iny  cause,  good  or  bad,  and,  as  such,  is  inferior  to  the 
employing  and  directing  power. 

It  appearing  thus  that  the  intellect  is  lower  than  the 
moral  powers,  it  remains  to  show  that  the  well-being  of 
that  which  is  lower  can  be  best  attained  only  as  we  secure 
that  of  the  higher. 

This  was  shown  in  the  discourse  of  last  year  to  be  true  of 
health,  and  pleasure,  and  wealth,  and  reputation,  and  fame  ; 
and  also  thai  the  principle  implied  is  incorporated  into  all 
the  works  of  God.  It  is  a  great  law  of  nature,  with  as  few 
exceptions  as  there  are  to  most  of  her  laws  ;  and  we  may 
fairly  presume,  till  the  contrary  shall  be  shown,  that  the 
intellect  is  no  exception. 

But,  that  the  intellect  will  be  best  cultivated  through 
the  moral  powers  will  appear,  if  we  compare  those  powers 
with  any  other  force  by  which  it  can  be  worked. 

As  has  been  said,  the  intellect  must  be  worked  by 
something  back  of  it.  It  is  as  the  muscle,  that  is  nothing 
without  the  nerve  ;  and  its  efficiency  will  depend  partly 
on  original  structure  and  on  training,  and  partly  on  the 
power  that  lies  behind.  That  power  must  be  some  in- 
stinct, tendency,  appetite,  passion,  taste,  feeling,  some 
capacity  of  emotion  or  enjoyment ;  and  if  we  make  a  com- 
parison among  these,  we  shall  find  that  the  moral  powers 
have  the  advantage,  both  in  strength  and  continuance, 
and  also  in  the  unity  and  harmony  that  result  from  their 
working. 


THE  ONE  EXCEPTION.  125 

Man's  nature  is  not  a  hive  of  faculties  without  a  queen 
bee.  It  is  not  a  mob.  It  is  rather  a  commonweaUh 
where  each  has  its  place,  and  where  there  can  be  strength 
and  continuance  and  harmony  of  action  only  as  the  moral 
nature  is  made  central,  and  as  all  move  and  cluster  about 
that. 

If  any  force  can  com.pare  favorably  with  the  moral 
nature,  it  must  be  ambition.  But  ambition  refers,  for  its 
standard,  to  the  opinions  and  attainments  of  others; 
when  it  has  gained  its  end,  or  become  hopeless  of  gaining 
it,  its  efforts  cease.  Let  that  end  be  but  gained,  and  it 
does  not  require  the  improvement  of  time  ;  it  knows  no- 
thing of  working  in  harmony  with  God,  and  so  nothing  of 
healthy,  symmetrical,  beautiful  growth  and  development, 
as  good  in  themselves.  It  has  no  power  of  self-regulation, 
and  so  is  often  consuming  and  self-destructive.  It  puts 
the  mind  in  conflict  with  itself,  and  makes  it  anxious  for 
the  result.  It  is  selfish,  repellent,  and  tends  to  isolation. 
That  follows  here  which  follows  always  when  the  lower 
faculty  is  disengaged  from  the  higher,  and  ceases  to  act  in 
its  light.  That  which  was  intended  to  walk  erect  by  hold- 
ing on  to  something  above  it,  becomes  a  serpent  going 
upon  its  belly  and  eating  dust. 

But  the  moral  nature  is  stronger  than  ambition.  It 
underlies  all  true  heroism,  all  martyrdom,  and,  by  uniting 
us  to  God,  was  intended  to  be  the  paramount  and  immor- 
tal force  of  oar  nature.  Let  this,  then,  lie  back  of  intel- 
lectual effort,  and  we  have  a  permanent,  constant,  self- 
regulating  principle,  that  will  always  bring  the  faculties  up 
to  the  full  glow  of  a  healthful  activity,  and  forbid  them  to 
go  beyond.  Now,  the  standard  will  be  fixed,  not  with 
reference  to  others,  but  by  capacity  and  opportunity.  The 
mind  will  act  in  its  unity,  with  no  conflict  of  its  higher  and 
lower  faculties,  and  with  no  fear  of  the  result.     Hence 


126  THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 

there  will  be,  not  only  strength,  but  balance  and  complete- 
ness and  order  and  beauty.  Not  only  will  there  be  har- 
mony among  the  faculties  themselves,  with  no  tendency  to 
a  repellency  of  others,  or  to  isolation  ;  but  it  will  be  felt 
that  the  activity  is  with  all,  and  for  all.  It  will  be  felt  to 
be  a  struggling  towards  that  absolute  perfection  of  one 
which  is  necessary  to  the  perfection  of  all. 

But  whatever  may  be  said  of  individuals,  of  communi- 
ties there  can  be  no  doubt.  The  spiritual  and  moral  ele- 
vation of  a  people  would  certainly  secure  their  general 
enlightenment.  It  would  not  make  every  individual  intel- 
lectual, but  it  would  create  a  summer  atmosphere  for  the 
quickening  and  growth  of  intellect,  that  would  rest  alike 
upon  the  hilltop  and  in  the  valley,  and  would  solicit  every 
latent  capacity.  The  higher  faculties  would  so  strike  down, 
and  stimulate  and  appropriate  the  lower,  that  there  would 
be,  if  not  technical  intellectualism,  yet  a  broad,  balanced, 
directive  intelligence  which  would,  as  by  instinct,  bear 
society  on  to  its  right  ends  ;  and  in  the  light  and  under 
the  stimulus  of  which,  individual  growth,  whether  humble 
or  gigantic,  would  be  most  favored.  Then  would  the 
necessity  of  toil  be  no  longer  a  blessing  to  man  by  keep- 
ing him  from  mischief  Leisure  would  be  a  blessing.  A 
community  let  loose  into  that,  would  rise  like  a  bird. 
Under  the  power  of  moral  motives,  leisure — the  power  to 
do  what  we  please — would  be  equivalent  to  a  college  edu- 
cation, and  the  works  of  God  would  be  to  every  man  a 
university.  Without  these  motives,  even  a  college  educa- 
tion becomes,  within  the  limits  of  possible  graduation,  a 
systematic  evasion  of  study,  the  works  of  God  are  a  blank, 
and  this  furnished  world  becomes  a  pigsty  or  a  pande- 
monium. It  is  in  the  use  to  be  made  of  its  leisure,  that 
the  problem  of  the  race  lies.  Who  shall  drain  this  bog  ? 
— hitherto  a  bog  bearing  weeds  and  sending  up  miasm — 


THE  ONE   EXCEPTION.  12/ 

who  shall  drain  it,  and  make  it  healthful  and  fruitful? 
Tell  me  what  is  to  be  done  with  the  leisure  that  a  machin- 
ery, gigantic  and  tiny,  myriad-handed  and  half- reasoning, 
is  beginning  to  give,  and  will  yet  give  more  fully  to  the 
race,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  the  destiny  of  the  race  will 
be.  To  the  opportunities  and  facilities  it  will  furnish  for 
intellectual  and  social  elevation  there  is  scarcely  a  limit ; 
there  is  none  to  the  sensuality  and  degradation  which  may 
grow  from  its  abuse.  But  intellect  in  the  service  of  the 
passions  tends  downwards.  Only  from  the  sense  of  obli- 
gation and  the  free  play  of  those  spiritual  affinities  by 
which  we  are  united  to  God,  will  there  be  the  broad  light 
of  an  intellectual  day. 

We  conclude,  then,  that  the  higher  intellectual  power, 
whether  of  the  individual  or  of  the  community,  can  be 
reached  only  by  waiting  on  God,  and  by  the  culture, 
through  that,  of  the  spiritual  and  moral  powers. 

If,  now,  it  be  inquired  how  the  impression  of  intellec- 
tual power  has  come  to  be  associated  with  skepticism  and 
wickedness,  an  answer  may  be  found,  first  in  the  fields  of 
literature  and  speculation  commonly  entered  by  the  skep- 
tical and  licentious.  These  are  those  of  imagination,  wit, 
ridicule,  and  trancendental  metaphysics.  Often,  pervaded 
by  a  sneer,  and  quietly  assuming  the  falseness  of  religion 
and  the  weakness  or  h3'pocrisy  of  those  who  profess  it, 
we  have,  in  novels,  in  poetry,  in  essays,  a  combination  of 
all  these.  Their  object,  the  last  excepted,  is  not  truth,  but 
impression  ;  and  this  last  is  as  yet  so  overrun  with  strange 
terms,  so  the  common  ground  of  truth,  falsehood,  and  non- 
sense, each  aping  the  profound,  that  it  is  difficult  to  say 
whether  it  is  better  as  a  hunting-ground  for  truth,  or  a 
stalking-ground  for  vanity,  or  a  hiding-place  for  falsehood. 
That  there  is  power  in  this  literature,  is  not  denied  ;  but 


128  THE   ONE  EXCEPTION. 

the  power  of  imagination,  wit,  assumption,  and  even  of 
bathos,  it  is  not  distinguished  from  that  of  fair  and  search- 
ing investigation. 

A  second  answer  we  find  in  the  effect  upon  the  mind 
of  all  irregular  action,  especially  when  combined  with 
daring,  or  fool-hardiness.  The  utmost  power  of  a  horse, 
exerted  in  the  true  line  of  draft,  will  excite  no  attention. 
Half  the  power  put  forth  in  rearing  and  plunging,  will 
draw  a  crowd  about  him.  A  cheap  method  of  notoriety, 
the  world  over,  is  this  rearing  and  plunging.  Sam  Patch, 
leaping  over  Genesee  Falls,  could  gather  a  greater  crowd 
than  Daniel  Webster.  The  great  powers  of  nature,  those 
by  which  she  wheels  up  her  sun,  and  navigates  her  planets, 
and  lifts  vegetation,  and  circulates  her  waters,  by  which 
she  holds  herself  in  her  unity  and  manifests  her  diversity, 
are  regular,  quiet,  within  the  traces  of  law,  and  excite  no 
attention.  Here  and  there  the  quiet  eye  of  a  philosopher 
expands  in  permanent  wonder,  but  from  the  very  fact,  the 
greatest  wonder  of  all,  that  these  forces  are  so  clothed  in 
order  and  tempered  with  gentleness,  they  are  to  the  multi- 
tude nothing.  Not  so  with  volcanoes  and  earthquakes, 
with  hurricanes  and  thunder-storms,  with  water-spouts  and 
cataracts.  These  are  irregular  manifestations  of  the  great 
forces  that  lie  back  of  them.  Compared  with  those  forces, 
they  are  only  as  the  eddy  to  the  river ;  only  as  the  open- 
ing of  the  side-valve  and  the  hiss  of  the  steam  compared 
with  the  force  of  the  engine  that  is  bearing  on  the  long 
train  ;  and  yet  these  are  the  wonders  of  the  world.  So 
with  the  mind.  When  it  respects  order  and  law,  when  it 
seeks  the  ends  and  moves  in  the  channels  appointed  by 
God,  its  mightiest  and  most  beneficent  movements  excite 
comparatively  little  attention.  But  combine  now  irregu- 
larity with  audacity  ;  open  a  side  valve  ;  assail  the  founda- 
tions of  belief;    make  it  impossible   for  God  to  work  a 


THE  ONE  EXCEPTION.  1 29 

miracle,  or  to  prove  it  if  he  should  ;  turn  history  into  a 
myth  ;  show  your  consciousness  of  power  by  setting  your- 
self against  the  race  ;  flatter  the  nineteenth  century  ;  de- 
throne God  ;  if  you  make  the  universe  God,  yourself  being 
a  part  of  it,  so  much  the  better, — do  thus,  and  there  will 
not  be  wanting  those  who  will  despise  the  plodders,  and 
hail  you  as  "  the  coming  man." 

I  have  thus  endeavored  to  show,  first,  that  moral  good- 
ness is  the  only  exception,  on  this  earth,  to  the  law  of 
decay  ;  and,  secondly,  that  it  is  the  condition  of  the  high- 
est intellectual  power,  both  for  the  individual  and  the  race. 

In  the  light  of  these  propositions  we  may  see,  first, 
what  must  be  the  essential  elements  in  the  promised  king- 
dom of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

They  must  be  righteousness  and  knowledge.  So  says 
the  prophet.  "  The  people  shall  be  all  righteous  :  they 
shall  inherit  the  land  forever."  "And  the  work  of  right- 
eousness shall  be  peace,  and  the  effect  of  righteousness, 
quietness  and  assurance  forever."  "  And  wisdom  and 
knowledge  shall  be  the  stability  of  thy  times,  and  strength 
of  salvation."  This  gives  the  line  and  order  of  effort  for 
all  who  would  labor  for  Christ.  Not  for  an  unintelligent 
piety — well-meaning,  but  blundering — are  they  to  labor  ; 
not  for  a  superstition  without  knowledge,  calling  itself 
righteousness,  but  weak,  sentimental  and  showy — bolstered 
up  by  fine  arts  and  wire-pulled  by  a  hierarchy;  not  for 
knowledge  without  righteousness,  sensualized,  self-con- 
ceited and  presumptuous  ;  but  for  a  combination  of  right- 
eousness and  knowledge  working  together  like  the  warmth 
and  the  light,  everywhere  pervading  society  in  its  free, 
oceanic,  and  multitudinous  action,  and  building  it  up  into 
the  order  and  beauty  of  heaven. 


130 


THE   ONE   EXCEPTION. 


In  the  second  place  you  will  see  what  you  are  to  do  in 
carrying  out  your  ow!i  education. 

That  education  you  have,  I  trust,  entered  upon  not 
wholly  from  worldly  ends,  but  with  some  reference  to  the 
state  of  your  permanent  being,  and  to  an  immortal  pro- 
gress. For  it,  many  of  you  have  made  sacrifices,  and  have 
applied  yourselves  laboriously  and  faithfully.  Grow,  my 
friends ;  seek  to  grow.  But  as  a  condition  of  a  growth 
that  shall  be  permanent,  healthful,  symmetrical,  do  not 
ignore  that  interaction  of  the  higher  and  lower  powers 
which  is  like  that  of  the  leaves  and  the  trunk  of  the  tree. 
As  in  that,  elaboration,  assimilation  and  ultimate  growth 
are  from  above,  so  it  is  only  through  the  higher  moral 
nature  that  the  sap  of  knowledge  is  converted  into  wis- 
dom. If  your  chief  sphere  of  study  were  to  be  the  abstract 
sciences,  cold  and  passionless,  where,  as  in  mathematics, 
the  relations  depend  on  no  will,  your  moral  state  would  be 
of  less  moment ;  but  your  chief  sphere  is  to  be  nature  and 
man,  where  everything  is  constituted  by  design,  and  where 
the  key  to  the  whole  structure  and  to  each  particular 
department  is  to  be  found  in  ends  and  uses.  Here  love, 
trust,  sympathy,  will  be  stimulants  of  thought  and  elements 
of  moral  power.  Nature  is  from  God  no  less  than  mind. 
It  was  made  for  mind.  It  reflects  the  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings of  God.  It  is  understood  only  as  the  thoughts  of 
God  in  it  are  reached,  and  it  must  be  that,  as  we  are  in  a 
right  moral  state,  and  in  sympathy  with  God,  we  shall 
have  a  finer  sense  and  a  quicker  sympathy  on  the  side  of 
nature.  She  will  open  herself  to  us  more  fully,  and  be- 
come, in  a  far  higher  sense,  a  companion  and  an  educat- 
ing power.  But  let  now  a  man  study  nature  with  a  scoff- 
ing spirit,  and  he  must  fail  of  insight.  His  stand-point 
will  be  wrong.  Movements  that  are  onward  and  beauti- 
ful when  seen  from  the  centre,  will  seem  to  him  retrograde 


THE  ONE  EXCEPTION.  I31 

and  perplexing.  The  sweetest  voices  of  nature,  her  hymns, 
he  cannot  hear ;  her  highest  beauties  he  cannot  see,  her 
profouudest  teachings  are  to  him  mere  babble.  Jeers, 
sarcasm,  fault-finding,  exciting  no  enthusiasm,  with  no  re- 
action on  thought,  with  no  element  of  satisfaction  except 
as  they  minister  to  notoriety,  will  take  the  place  of  admi- 
ration, love,  adoration,  by  which  thought  is  naturally  quick- 
ened and  rewarded.  Would  you  study  the  works  of  God, 
and  yourselves  as  a  part  of  those  works,  be  in  harmony 
with  yourselves,  and  in  sympathy  with  God. 

But  thirdly.  Not  only  are  you  to  educate  yourselves, 
opening  your  minds  to  all  light,  and  putting  forth  all  effort, 
but  directly  and  indirectly  you  will  have  much  to  do  in 
educating  the  community,  and  you  will  see,  in  the  light  of 
this  subject,  your  duty  in  that  regard. 

You  will  neither  form,  nor  encourage,  any  extravagant 
expectations  from  what  is  commonly  called  education. 
Not  so  will  society  grow  up  into  its  true  life.  If  there  be 
that  above  the  intellect  to  which  it  ought  to  be  subser- 
vient, but  is  not,  then  there  will  be  a  law  of  degradation 
even  in  its  own  activity.  Education  will  become,  either 
simply  an  accomplishment,  or  a  drudge.  It  will  do  no- 
thing towards  removing  the  follies  and  weaknesses  of  soci- 
ety ;  so  that  you  will  find,  as  we  now  do,  communities 
claiming  to  be  the  most  highly  educated,  pervaded,  even 
more  than  others,  with  a  credulity  and  a  superstition  that 
would  have  disgraced  the  days  of  witchcraft,  but  without 
the  earnestness  which  saved  those  from  being  contemptible. 
This  we  may  satirize  and  deplore,  but,  under  the  system, 
it  cannot  be  helped.  The  only  true  method  is  that  of  our 
Saviour.  Nothing  now  on  the  earth,  or  that  ever  has  been, 
can  compare  with  Christianity  in  its  educating  power. 
Wherever  it  has  been  in  its  purity,  the  standard  of  general 
education  has  always  been  highest.     It  is  so  now.     You 


i;:  THE   OXE   EXCEPTION. 

cannot  h.ive  a  pure  Christianity  without  general  education, 
while  yet  education,  as  such,  is  not  the  object  of  Chris- 
tianity at  all.  Its  educating  power  results  solely  from  its 
reaching  and  controlling  that  which  is  highest,  and  from 
the  necessar}-  stimulus  and  rectitication  through  that,  ac- 
cording to  the  principle  laid  down,  of  all  that  is  lower. 
So  has  it  wrought  from  the  beginning  ;  so  will  it  work,  and 
only  in  and  through  this  can  you  work  ettectually.  Hence 
you  will  make,  simply  as  educators,  a  capital  mistake,  if 
you  do  not  seek  to  enthrone  Christianity  in  all  our  seats 
of  learning,  and  to  extend  and  deepen  its  intiuence  in 
ever)-  possible  way.  Hence  no  institution,  not  pen-aded 
by  Christianity,  can  do  much  in  really  educating  and  ele- 
vating the  CO  mm  unit}'. 

Finally,  we  see  from  this  subject  where  lies  the  perma- 
nent strength  and  the  true  good  of  man. 

It  is  much  to  know,  that  there  is  any  one  thing  on  this 
earth  that  does  not  decay  ;  that  while  the  body  is  con- 
stant only  by  change,  and  its  identity  is  only  similarity, 
there  is  in  the  mind  a  central  point  that  is  unchangeable, 
and  an  identit}*  that  is  absolute.  It  is  more  to  know  that 
in  this  we  tind  our  true  selves,  that  by  this  we  are  allied 
to  God.  This  takes  us  out  of  the  sphere  of  that  law  of 
uniformities,  in  the  light  of  which  we  have  hitlierto  chiefly 
regarded  the  subject,  and  brings  us  into  that  of  free  per- 
sonalities. Made  in  the  image  of  God,  allied  to  him  as 
personal  and  free,  we  have  faculties,  call  them  moral,  call 
them  spiritual,  by  which  we  apprehend  him,  and  through 
which  we  become  receptive  of  influences  from  him. 
These  influences  imply  no  inspiration  of  particular  truths 
as  to  prophets  and  seers,  but  are  open  to  the  race. 
They  come  as  the  tide  to  the  stranded  vessel  that 
gradually  surrounds  it,  and  lifts  it  up,  and  bears  it 
into    the  depths  and    boundlessness   of  its    appropriate 


THE   ONE   EXCEPTION.  1 33 

eiement.  By  these  influences,  respecting  the  laws  of  our 
freedom,  and  the  bounds  of  our  individuality,  the  Spirit  of 
God  enlightens,  sustains,  purifies,  exalts  us,  and  makes  us 
partakers  of  his  own  blessedness.  This  is  the  Scripture 
doctrine  of  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  last  link 
in  the  work  of  human  salvation,  by  which,  all  incompati- 
bilities of  justice  and  mercy  having  been  removed,  the  law 
becomes  written  in  the  heart,  and  we  are  brought  to  rest 
in  the  activity  of  a  full  and  unceasing  complacency  in  a 
holy  and  infinite  God.  Thus  God  himself  becomes  the 
portion  of  the  soul.  Thus  do  we  enter  into  the  "  fulness 
of  him  that  filleth  all  in  all."  Beyond  this,  nothing  of  good 
can  be  conceived  of.  This  is  our  rest — our  ultimate  goal. 
This  it  is  that  we  yearn  after ;  in  the  congruity  of  this  to 
the  mind,  and  in  the  deep,  conscious  want  of  it,  it  is  that 
we  find  the  solution  of  those  enthusiasms,  and  extrava- 
gancies, and  distortions  of  the  religious  nature,  which  have 
made  religion  a  by-word.  These  suppose  a  capacity  and 
need  of  communion  with  God  just  as  insanity  supposes 
reason,  and  they  will  cease  only  when  that  communion 
returns. 

Do  you,  my  friends,  accept  this  doctrine .''  Will  you 
accept  it  practically  ?  Will  you  open  the  way  for  the  com- 
ing into  your  own  souls  of  divine  light  and  divine  help. 
Will  you  put  away  sin .''  This  is  the  one  condition  of  a 
pure  light  and  a  true  elevation.  You  must  begin  with  the 
heart,  for  only  the  pure  in  heart  can  see  God,  and  only  as 
we  see  him,  and  in  his  light,  can  we  see  all  other  things 
in  their  true  proportions.  Will  you  then  open  yourselves 
fully  to  the  divine  teachings,  and  to  the  intimacy  of  a 
divine  communion  ?  Not  only  morally,  but  intellectually, 
will  the  answer  to  this  question  be  the  turning-point  in 
your  destiny.  The  question  involved  in  this  doctrine  of  a 
divine  communion  and  help,  is  the  cardinal  one  for  the 


134  THE   ONE  EXCEPTION. 

race.  At  every  point  this  doctrine  meets  not  only  our 
weaknesses  and  wants,  but  also  our  sinfulness^  and  so 
transcends  all  transcendentalism,  and  all  possible  philoso- 
phies and  devices  of  man.  It  is  not  merely  a  philosophy, 
but  a  redemption  and  a  remedy,  a  companionship  and  a 
portion.  Without  this  doctrine,  man  is  but  a  waif  upon 
the  waters,  a  severed  branch  that  must  perish.  With  it 
he  is  united  to  God,  and  so  there  is  nothing  too  great  for 
him  to  hope.  With  it  he  may  mount  up  as  with  the  wings 
of  an  eagle,  may  run  and  not  be  weary,  and  walk  and  not 
faint. 


VIII. 

THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN. 
What  manner  of  child  shall  this  be  ?—  Luke,  i.  66. 

THE  circumstances  preceding  and  attending  the 
birth  of  John  the  Baptist,  were  extraordinary.  As 
his  father,  Zacharias,  then  "well  stricken  in  years," 
"  executed  the  priest's  office  before  God  in  the  order  of 
his  course,"  "  there  appeared  unto  him  an  angel  of  the 
Lord  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  the  altar  of  incense," 
and  foretold  the  birth  of  the  child.  When  Zacharias 
did  not  believe  him,  "the  angel  answering  said  unto 
him,  I  am  Gabriel,  that  stand  in  the  presence  of  God, 
and  am  sent  to  speak  unto  thee,  and  to  show  thee  these 
glad  tidings.  And  behold,  thou  shalt  be  dumb,  and  not 
able  to  speak,  until  the  day  that  these  things  shall  be 
performed."  Accordingly  Zacharias  was  dumb  until  the 
time  came  for  naming  the  child.  Then,  after  he  had 
written  the  name  given  by  the  angel,  "  his  mouth  was 
opened  immediately,  and  his  tongue  loosed,  and  he 
spake  and  praised  God."  These  things  "were  noised 
abroad  throughout  all  the  hill-country  of  Judea;"  and 
it  is  not  strange  that  "  all  they  that  heard  them  laid 
them  up  in  their  hearts,"  or  that  they  said,  "  What  man- 
ner of  child  shall  this  be?"  Of  a  child  whose  birth  was 
thus  heralded  and  signalized,  something  extraordinary 
could  not  fail  to  be  expected. 

♦+*  July  31,  1859. 


136  THE   MANIFOLDNESS  OF  MAN. 

But  while  this  inquiry  was  thus  naturally  made  res- 
pecting John,  may  it  not  also  be  appropriately  made  res- 
pecting every  child  that  is  born  ?  There  may  be  noth- 
ing extraordinary,  either  in  connection  with  the  birth 
of  the  child,  or  with  the  child  itself,  and  yet  that  child 
shall  be  different  from  every  other  child  that  ever  was 
born,  or  ever  shall  be ;  and  its  capacities  of  develop- 
ment, and  the  possibilities  of  its  future,  shall  run  in  lines 
of  such  divergency  from  those  of  every  other,  that  we 
may  well  ask  respecting  it,  "  What  manner  of  child 
shall  this  be  ? " 

There  is  nothing  in  the  works  of  God  more  striking 
than  the  differences  there  are  of  things  that  are  similar, 
and  the  similarities  of  things  that  are  different.  In  the 
perception  of  these  two  we  have  the  element  of  science 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  practical  skill  on  the  other. 
So  far  as  beings  or  things  are  similar,  they  may  be 
named  alike,  and  treated  alike,  and  so  a  knowledge 
of  one  becomes  the  knowledge  of  all.  This  is  science. 
Through  this  the  individuals  which  God  has  made,  vast 
as  they  are  in  number  and  variety,  are  marshalled,  and 
ranged  in  regiments,  and  battalions,  and  companies. 
In  this,  and  so  far  as  it  goes,  exceptions  and  individual- 
ities disappear ;  what  seemed  promiscuous  and  irregular 
falls  into  order,  and  the  universe  assumes  the  appear- 
ance of  troops  marching  and  countermarching  in  a  grand 
review.  But  so  far  as  things  are  different,  each  individ- 
ual must  be  studied  by  itself,  and  treated  by  itself;  and 
as  differences  constantly  appear,  they  furnish  the  occa- 
sion of  constant  study.  Thus  it  is  that  through  simil- 
arities the  dictionary  of  human  knowledge  is  greatly 
abridged,  while  through  diversities,  the  faculties  are  kept 
constantly  awake.  At  the  point  where  we  cease  to  dis- 
criminate differences,  all  interest  ceases  from  uniformity 


THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN.  1 37 

and  monotony.  At  the  point  where  we  cease  to  discern 
similarities,  interest  again  ceases  from  diversity  and 
confusion. 

But  while  these  elements  pervade  the  works  of  God, 
while  our  scientific  interest  in  those  works  and  practical 
power  over  them  are  from  these,  yet  are  they  nowhere 
more  striking,  and  nowhere  as  interesting  to  us,  as  in 
man.  Every  man  has,  and  as  a  man  must  have,  the 
great  features  and  characteristics  which  make  him  a 
man,  and  yet  how  infinite  the  diversity !  No  two  are 
there  that  look  alike,  no  two  that  think  alike,  no  two 
that  act  alike ;  and  doubtless  this  diversity  will  become 
greater  and  greater,  so  long  as  they  shall  exist.  Here, 
and  here  only  in  this  diversity  ever  increasing  yet  not 
divorced  from  unity,  do  we  find  the  basis  of  a  harmony 
that  shall  also  ever  increase. 

This  diversity  it  was  which  was  implied  in  the  ques- 
tion of  the  text.  That  referred  not  merely  to  the  child- 
hood, but  to  the  whole  career  of  John.  What  manner 
of  man  should  he  become  ?  What  part  should  he  per- 
form in  the  great  drama  of  human  affairs  ?  Should  he  be 
a  monarch,  a  conqueror,  a  sage,  a  lawgiver  ?  Should  he 
play  over  again  the  old  games  of  ambition,  and  pleasure, 
and  gain  ?  or  should  he  be  something  new  and  fresh  in 
the  world's  history. 

The  question  supposes  a  great  difference  between 
the  child  then,  and  what  he  would  become.  And  how 
great  was  that  difference  !  Now  he  is  an  infant  of  eight 
days,  with  no  visible  distinction  from  other  infants ;  just 
as  helpless  and  dependent.  A  Pharisee  might  have 
taken  him  under  the  enlarged  border  of  his  garments, 
and  have  borne  him  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem, 
and  no  one  have  known  it.  But  pass  on  now  thirty 
years,  and  what  is  he?     He  is  "the  voice  of  one  crying 


138  THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF  MAN. 

in  the  wilderness,  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord,  make 
his  paths  straight."  He  cries,  and  all  Judea,  and  Jeru- 
salem, and  the  region  round  about  Jordan  are  stirred, 
and  go  out  to  him.  He  is  the  fulfillment  of  prophecies 
made  centuries  before,  the  forerunner  of  the  Messiah,  a 
bright  and  shining  light,  one  of  whom  it  could  truly  be 
said,  that  of  those  born  of  women,  there  had  been  none 
greater  than  he. 

But  great  as  this  change  was,  there  was  nothing  in 
it  so  unusual  as  to  attract  attention.  The  man  attracted 
attention,  but  not  the  change.  This  was  so  gradual, 
that  wonder  was  superseded  by  familarity.  It  was  but  a 
single  exemplification  of  a  general  law.  Hence  I  ob- 
serve, in  the  first  place. 

That  there  is  a  great  difference  in  all  organic  beings, 
between  what  they  are  at  first,  and  what  we  see  them 
become. 

We  might  ask  of  any  seed  just  germinating.  What 
manner  of  plant  shall  this  be  ?  See  ;  here  is  a  point  of 
green  just  visible.  Look  again.  It  has  become  a  violet, 
with  its  eye  on  the  sun,  suffused  with  beauty,  and  throb- 
bing with  the  pulses  of  the  universal  life.  Here  is  a  filmy 
substance  ;  it  lies  upon  the  palm  of  your  hand,  and  a 
breath  will  blow  it  away.  From  this,  too,  emerges  a  point 
of  green  no  larger  than  the  other,  and  with  no  perceptible 
difference  between  them.  But  this  shall  become  the  elm 
with  its  pendent  branches,  towering  and  spreading,  the 
pride  of  the  meadow.  We  may  ask  the  egg,  "What  man- 
ner of  creature  shall  this  be  .? "  Now  there  is  in  it  a  beat- 
ing speck — a  mere  point  that  pulsates.  The  philosopher 
is  peering  at  it  through  his  microscope,  searching  for  the 
principle  of  life,  as  the  child  chases  the  foot  of  the  rainbow. 
That  principle  he  finds  not,  he  shall  not  find  it,  but  it  em- 
bodies and  perfects  itself,  and  from  points  undistinguish 


THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN.  1 39 

able,  it  becomes  now  a  wren,  chattering  and  vivacious ;  now 
a  golden  oriole,  warbling  and  weaving  its  pendent  nest ; 
now  a  solemn  owl  ;  a  peacock,  with  its  "  goodly  wings  ;  " 
an  ostrich,  with  its  "  wings  and  feathers,"  fleet  and  power- 
ful ;  an  eagle,  screaming  and  breasting  the  storm-cloud  flir 
in  the  sky.  It  is  indeed  now  said,  that  every  plant,  from 
the  lichen  to  the  oak,  and  every  animal,  from  the  insect  to 
man,  has  its  beginning  in  a  single  cell.  It  is  in  these  cells, 
undistinguishable  by  us,  that  Omniscience  can  see  the  fu- 
ture, and  from  them  that  Omnipotence  can  call  "  the  things 
that  are  not,  as  though  they  were." 

This  capacity  of  transformation  and  growth,  by  which 
beings  seem  to  us  to  pass  from  the  very  verge  of  nonentity 
to  great  perfection  and  magnitude  and  power,  is  among  the 
most  striking  characteristics  of  the  present  state.  It  is  also 
one  which  we  think  of,  and  Revelation  confirms  the  impres- 
sion, as  belonging  to  this  state  alone.  There  are  not  want- 
ing those  who  believe  that  this  world  is  the  nursery  for 
peopling  this  planetary  system  at  least,  if  not  the  worlds 
scattered  through  all  space. 

The  individuals  thus  starting  from  what  seems  a  com- 
mon point,  are  different  in  rank,  and  fall  into  different 
classes  ;  and  we  next  inquire  what  the  rank  of  each  will 
be. 

The  rank  of  each  will  be  determined,  first,  by  its  rank 
in  its  own  class  ;  and,  secondly,  by  the  rank  of  the  class. 

The  rank  of  an  individual  in  its  own  class  will  be  de- 
termined by  its  capacity  of  development,  and  by  its  actual 
development  in  one  direction.  The  California  pine  may 
reach  a  circumference  of  thirty  feet,  and  a  height  of  three 
hundred  and  fifty,  and  so  be  the  first  of  its  class  ;  but  it 
is  by  a  repetition  always  of  the  same  processes,  an  exten- 
sion and  increase  in  one  line.  Between  the  greatest  and 
the  least  of  them  there  is  no  difference,  except  that  of  de 


I40  THE   MANIFOLDNESS  OF  MAN. 

velopment  in  a  particular  direction.  Among  men,  a  man 
will  be  really  first,  who  possesses  most  perfectly  what  is 
distinctively  human  ;  and  in  general,  whatever  individual 
of  a  class  shall  manifest  most  fully  its  distinctive  charac- 
teristic, will  be  the  first  in  that  class. 

But  while  rank  in  a  class  is  determined  by  develop- 
ment in  one  direction,  the  rank  of  a  class  is  determined 
by  the  capacity  of  individuals  in  it  for  development  in  dif- 
ferent directions  j  thus  giving  wide  scope  to  the  imagin- 
ation in  answering  the  question,  "  What  manner  of  being 
shall  this  be  ?  "  The  power  in  a  tree  of  varying  from  a 
given  line  is  as  nothing.  So  it  can  grow,  so  only.  In 
animals,  this  power  is  greater  ;  in  man,  greater  still — and 
the  more  things  it  is  possible  for  him  to  become,  the  more 
complex  must  be  his  nature,  and  the  higher  his  rank.  As 
the  scheme  of  the  creation  is,  that  that  which  is  above  takes 
up  into  itself  all  that  is  below,  the  more  complex  the  nature 
is,  the  higher  it  must  be,  the  more  directions  it  may  take, 
and  the  greater  is  the  uncertainty  that  must  hang  about  its 
final  destiny. 

And  here  I  observe,  in  the  third  place,  that,  in  sensitive 
and  moral  beings,  a  capacity  of  development  in  one  direc- 
tion involves  its  opposite,  and  that  in  an  equal  degree.  In 
this  we  find  startling  indications  respecting  the  possibili- 
ties of  our  future.  In  creatures  merely  sensitive,  perhaps 
a  different  constitution  was  possible,  but  we  know  of  no  in- 
stance of  it.  A  capacity  for  pleasure  always  involves  that 
of  pain,  and,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  in  a  degree  precisely 
correspondent.  But  whatever  may  be  possible  in  the  region 
of  simple  enjoyment,  in  a  moral  being  the  capacity  of  de- 
velopment in  one  direction  must  imply  that  in  the  other. 
He  who  is  capable  of  moral  elevation,  must  also  be  of 
moral  degradation.  He,  and  he  only,  who  is  capable  of 
great  moral  excellence,  is  capable  of  great  sin.    This  is  the 


THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN.  141 

basis  of  the  maxim  universally  true,  that  the  best  things 
corrupted,. become  the  worst.  The  better,  the  higher,  the 
purer,  the  nobler  any  being  is  capable  of  becoming,  the 
more  utter  and  awful  may  be  its  downfall  and  ruin.  It 
requires  an  angel  to  make  a  devil. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  appears  that  the  rank  of 
man  will  be  determined  by  the  range  of  his  possible  devel- 
opment in  different  directions.  And  how  wide  is  that  range  ! 
How  different  in  this  is  man  from  any  other  being  on  the 
earth  1  Let  us  look  at  the  breadth  of  this  range,  first,  in 
respect  to  belief.  An  animal  cannot  be  said  to  believe  at 
all,  but  for  an  infant  how  wide  is  the  range  of  possible  be- 
lief! Wonderful  is  it,  that  with  the  same  faculties,  thrown 
into  the  same  world,  with  the  same  phenomena,  and  orders 
of  succession,  and  similarities  and  differences,  such  a  range 
should  be  possible.  Especially  is  this  true  of  religious 
belief,  where  the  range  is  the  widest  conceivable. 

Here  are  two  infants  just  opening  their  eyes  upon  the 
light,  and  beginning  to  gather  those  materials  which  are  to 
be  the  basis  of  their  belief.  What  manner  of  men  shall 
they  be?  They  seem  alike;  but  when  manhood  comes, 
one  of  them  shall  stand  upon  this  earth  so  full  of  the  good- 
ness of  God,  under  these  heavens  which  declare  his  glory, 
he  shall  see  all  there  is  in  them  of  order,  and  beauty,  and 
beneficence,  and  yet  be  an  atheist.  Causeless,  aimless, 
fatherless,  hopeless,  with  nothing  to  respond  to  his  deepest 
wants,  for  him  the  universe  shall  be  whirled  in  the  eddies 
of  chance,  or  swept  on  by  the  current  of  a  blind  and  re- 
morseless fate.  The  other  shall  believe  that  there  is  one 
God,  infinite,  eternal  and  unchangeable,  omnipotent  and 
omnipresent,  holy,  just  and  merciful,  the  Creator  and  Gov- 
ernor of  all  things,  to  whom  he  may  look  up  and  say.  My 
Father.     For  him,  compared  with  this  God,  the  universe 


142  THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN. 

is  as  nothing.  In  Him  it  has  its  being.  It  is  irradiated 
with  his  gloiy,  as  the  evening  cloud  with  the  glory  of  the 
setting  sun.  Except  as  expressing  his  attributes  and  indi- 
cating his  purposes,  it  had  no  grandeur  and  no  significance. 
One  of  these  again  shall  look  forward  to  death,  and 
see  in  it  the  end  of  man.  For  him,  the  sullen  sound  sent 
back  from  his  coffin  when  the  sod  falls  upon  it,  is  the  last 
which  the  conscious  universe  is  to  know  of  each  individual 
man,  unless,  indeed,  the  geologist  of  some  future  era  may 
find  in  the  impression  of  his  bones,  a  record  of  this.  For 
him,  man  has,  in  death,  no  pre-eminence  over  the  beast. 
By  the  other,  death  shall  be  welcomed  as  a  friend.  It  shall 
be  for  him  the  beginning  of  a  higher  life,  of  clearer  insight, 
of  purer  joys,  of  a  greater  nearness  to  God,  and  of  an 
unending  progression.     He  shall 

'  The  darkening  universe  defy. 
To  quench  his  immortality." 

He  shall  believe  with  a  certainty  that  shall  enable  him  to 
say  with  one  of  old,  that  he  knows  "  that  if  this  earthly  house 
of  his  tabernacle  were  dissolved  he  has  a  building  of  God, 
a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens,"  and 
so  his  great  hope  shall  lie  beyond  the  tomb.  One  of  these, 
again  shall  believe  in  no  accountability  after  death ;  the 
other  shall  believe,  that  "  every  idle  word  that  men  shall 
speak,  they  shall  give  account  thereof  in  the  day  of  judg- 
ment." 

So  these  two  may  come  to  believe,  and  yet  be  men. 
These  three  great  doctrines — of  God,  of  a  future  life,  and 
of  accountability — without  which  there  can  be  neither 
religion  nor  morality,  one  shall  receive,  and  the  other 
shall  reject.  Side  by  side  they  may  stand,  separated  by 
scarcely  a  point  in  space  ;  but  in  that  whole  interior  life 


THE   MANTFOLDNESS   OF   MAN.  143 

which  is  most  intimate  and  essential  to  them,  they  are  as 
wide  asunder  as  the  poles. 

But  here  it  is  to  be  noticed,  that  while  the  possibility 
of  this  divergence  in  belief  indicates  elevation  in  rank,  yet 
the  fact  of  such  divergence  indicates  for  some  a  low  posi- 
tion in  that  rank.  A  perfect  instinct  is  uniform.  So  is 
perfect  reason,  and  these  would  coincide.  These  are  the 
extremes,  and  between  these,  imperfection  and  diversity 
lie.  Truth  is  one,  and  a  failure  to  see  it  is  always  the 
result  either  of  feebleness  or  of  sin.  Hence,  diversity  of 
belief  is  not  among  those  needed  for  harmony,  but  the 
reverse.  A  measure  of  it  is  compatible  with  harmony, 
that  is,  such  as  this  world  admits  of,  but  the  harmony  of 
the  universe  will  be  perfect  only  when  all  rational  crea- 
tures, so  far  as  they  see  at  all,  shall  see  eye  to  eye. 

But  if  the  divergence  of  men  in  religious  belief,  and  in 
all  belief,  is  great,  it  is  not  less,  and  is  even  more  striking, 
in  their  objects  of  worship. 

One  "  planteth  an  ash,  and  the  rain  doth  nourish  it. 
Then  shall  it  be  for  a  man  to  burn.  He  burneth  part  there- 
of in  the  fire,  and  the  residue  thereof  he  maketh  a  god, 
even  his  graven  image  ;  he  falleth  down  and  worshippeth 
it ;  he  prayeth  unto  it  and  saith.  Deliver  me,  for  thou  art 
my  god."  He  may  worship,  as  men  have  done,  flies,  and 
serpents,  and  crocodiles,  and  oxen,  and  the  sun,  and  moon, 
and  stars,  and  heroes,  and  devils ;  and  worshipping  these,  he 
becomes,  so  far  as  is  possible,  assimilated  to  them.  How 
different  these  from  Him,  who  is  "  the  Lord,  the  true  God, 
the  living  God,  and  an  everlasting  King ;  who  hath  made 
the  earth  by  his  power,  who  hath  established  the  world  by 
his  wisdom,  and  hath  stretched  out  the  heavens  by  his 
discretion."  And  can  the  intelligent  worshipper  of  this 
God,  the  holy  prophet,  or  apostle,  rapt  in  vision,  or  swal- 
lowed up  in  adoration,  be  of  the  same  race  with  the  idola- 


144  THE  MANIFOLDNESS  OF  MAN. 

ter  casting  himself  beneath  the  car  of  Juggernaut,  or  with 
the  cannibal  savage  eating  his  victim,  and  dancing  before 
a  carved,  besmeared,  and  hideous  log?  Can  it  be  that 
those  who  do  thus,  might  have  changed  places  ? 

Here,  again,  diversity  is  not  the  basis  of  harmony.  If 
harmony  requires  diversity,  it  has  its  root  in  unity,  the 
unity  of  truth  and  of  God ;  and  so,  of  belief  and  of  wor- 
ship. 

We  may  further  ask  what  any  child  shall  be  in  pos- 
ition, in  attainments,  and  in  the  extent  of  his  influence. 
Shall  he  be  a  miner,  thousands  of  feet  beneath  the  earth's 
surface,  untaught,  unknown,  unthanked,  uncared  for,  with 
a  mind  as  narrow  and  as  dark  as  the  sphere  of  his  labors  ? 
Shall  he  be  a  slave,  whose  range  is  the  plantation,  and  to 
whom  cupidity  and  fear  forbid  the  knowledge  of  letters  ? 
Shall  he  be  a  misanthrope,  self-exiled  from  society,  who 
dies  alone,  and  whose  body  is  found  by  accident  ?  Shall 
he  be,  as  probably  he  will,  neither  rich  nor  poor,  neither 
learned  nor  ignorant,  neither  widely  known  nor  wholly 
obscure — one  of  the  countless  throng  on  life's  thoroughfare 
of  whom  the  casual  observer  would  take  no  note  ?  Or, 
shall  he  tread  the  high  places  of  art,  of  learning,  and  of 
power  ?  Shall  the  canvas  or  the  marble  wait  for  his  touch 
to  become  immortal?  Shall  he  be  a  poet,  "soaring  in  the 
high  region  of  his  fancy,  with  his  garland  and  singing 
robes  about  him  ?  "  Shall  he  govern  nations,  command 
armies,  sway  senates,  wrest  from  nature  her  secrets,  lead 
the  van  of  progress,  and  make  his  thought  and  will  felt 
over  the  globe  ? 

But  chiefly  may  we  ask  concerning  any  infant,  What 
manner  of  child  shall  this  be  in  character,  and  in  the  kind 
of  influence  he  shall  exert.  Upon  character  every  thing 
depends,  and  from  this,  influence  flows.  And  shall  these 
be  in  the  line,  and  on  the  level  of  sensuality  and  of  sense 


THE  MANIFOLDNESS  OF  MAN.  145 

or  of  a  selfish  and  all-absorbing  ambition  ?  or  of  a  pure 
philanthropy  ?  or  of  a  whole-hearted  consecration  to  the 
will  of  God  ?  Shall  the  child  be  an  apostle  of  righteous- 
ness ?  a  martyr  missionary  ?  a  preacher  like  Whitfield, 
whose  eloquence  and  zeal  shall  set  a  continent  on  fire  ? 
Shall  he  be  a  fashionable  exquisite,  admiring  himself,  and 
supposing  himself  admired  by  others  ?  Shall  he  be  a 
political  intriguer?  an  adroit  depredator  upon  society? 
Shall  he  be  a  drunkard,  and  die  in  a  ditch  ?  Shall  he  be 
a  thief?  a  murderer?  a  pirate?  Can  it  be  that  he  who 
sails  under  the  black  flag  of  death,  and  whose  motto  is, 
that  "  dead  men  tell  no  tales,"  once  drew  his  life  from  the 
breast  of  a  human  mother,  returned  her  caress,  and  an- 
swered to  her  smile  ?  Who  is  this  upon  whom  every  eye  in 
the  vast  multitude  is  fixed  ?  Over  his  face  the  fatal  cap  is 
drawn,  and  he  stands  upon  the  drop  just  ready  to  fall.  It 
is  but  a  few  years,  and  his  tiny  hand  held  the  finger  of  his 
mother,  and  in  him  were  garnered  up  her  fond  hopes  and 
high  expectations. 

At  this  point  the  import  of  the  question  is  deepest, 
because  the  dread  issues  involved  in  our  immortality  are 
here  at  stake.  Here  are  harnessed  the  forces  that  are  to 
move  on  the  plains  of  eternity.  Everything  indicates  that 
in  the  mind,  as  well  as  in  the  body,  there  is  a  possibility 
of  RUIN  ;  that  there  are  there  also  processes  that  are  can- 
cerous and  leprous  ;  and  that  they  may  gradually  pervade, 
and  at  length  utterly  pervert  and  corrupt  the  whole  being. 
Awful  and  significant  it  is,  to  see  such  a  disease  spreading 
itself  over  the  body,  tainting  the  fluids  more  widely,  and 
implicating  more  tissues,  till  deformity  becomes  only  the 
more  obtrusive,  and  hideous,  and  persistent,  as  the  forces 
of  nature  were  originally  greater  and  more  beneficent. 
And  so  it  may  be  in  mind.  Whatever  the  fact  may  be,  no 
ane  can  doubt  the  fearful  capacity  for  this.     It  belongs  to 


146  THE    MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN, 

our  conception  of  spiritual  forces  that  they  are  indefinite 
or  without  limit  in  their  capacities,  in  whatever  direction 
they  may  move.  It  is  the  natural  pledge  of  their  immor- 
tality, that  whatever  point  they  may  reach  in  knowledge  or 
affection,  in  virtue  or  in  vice,  it  will  always  be  possible  for 
them  to  advance  still  further.  This  point,  whatever  it  be, 
must  be  reached  under  the  law  of  habit,  and  under  that 
still  more  general  law  that  "to  him  that  hath  shall  be 
given,"  and  thus  the  time  must  come  when  there  can  be 
no  return.  For  the  same  reason  that  the  path  of  the  just 
shall  be  as  the  shining  light,  that  shines  more  and  more, 
the  gloom  of  to-day  shall  become  the  darkness  of  to  mor- 
row, and  the  deep  midnight  of  the  day  following.  Selfish- 
ness, passion,  hate,  shall  gain  a  permanent  ascendancy, 
and  the  reign  of  retribution  begin.  The  immutability  of 
law  is  the  rock  to  which  the  sinner  shall  be  bound ;  the 
ceaseless  action  of  the  spiritual  powers  is  the  immortal 
liver  that  shall  grow  as  it  is  consumed,  and  the  diseased 
action  is  the  vulture  that  shall  prey  upon  it.  The  worm 
shall  gnaw  till  it  shall  become  undying,  the  fire  shall  burn 
till  it  "  cannot  be  quenched."  This,  not  crumbling  arches, 
not  mouldering  cities,  but  this,  this  is  ruin. 

What  a  contrast  between  this  and  the  possibilities  we  see 
before  us  and  in  us,  when  we  look  at  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 
In  him,  in  him  alone,  can  we  form  a  right  estimate  of  our 
nature  ;  and  that  he  has  enabled  us  to  do  this,  is  no  small 
ground  of  our  indebtedness  to  him.  So  far  as  he  was  man 
only,  there  was  in  him  no  excellence  or  perfection  which 
we  may  not  attain  ;  and  the  perfections  in  him  were  not 
only  an  example  to  us,  but  were  a  pledge  to  his  followers 
that  they  shall  attain  the  same.  The  disciple  shall  be  as 
his  Master.  They  shall  be  like  him,  for  they  shall  see  him 
as  he  is.  Christ  was  the  Son  of  God  as  Adam  was  not ; 
and  in  him  humanity  was  glorified  as  it  could  have  been  in 


THE  MANIFOLDNESS  OF  MAN.  147 

no  other  way.  There  was  stamped  upon  it  the  seal  of  an 
infinite  value.  It  was  so  taken  into  union  with  God  as  to 
show  that  God  can  dwell  with  it,  and  that  the  highest  di- 
vine perfections  may  be  manifested  through  it.  Christ  was 
the  '•  brightness  of  his  glory,"  as  manifested  on  the  earth, 
"  the  express  image  of  his  person,"  and  whoever  would  see 
the  capacities  there  are  in  man  for  elevation  and  excellence 
must  look  to  him.  "  Looking  unto  Jesus,"  is  the  motto  of 
the  Christian.  He  is  the  only  type  of  normal  development 
for  the  race.  I  point  you  to  no  heroes  or  sages,  but  to 
Him  ;  to  no  abstract  conception,  but  to  embodied  excel- 
lence, living,  walking,  speaking,  sympathizing,  suffering 
among  men.  The  divine  image,  marred  in  Adam,  was 
restored  in  Christ,  and  is  so  held  in  him  that  it  can  be  lost 
never  more.  The  gem  is  now  set  forever.  It  will  belong 
to  the  riches  of  eternity.  This  image  we  7nay  attairi.  Be- 
tween the  attainment  of  this  and  any  thing  else,  the  differ 
ence  is  infinite.  This  is  the  true  good.  And  O  how  great, 
how  infinite  is  this  good  !  In  view  of  it,  how  forcible  the 
question  of  our  Saviour,  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he 
shall  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  soul  ?  Or  what 
shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul? "  Fully  attained, 
this  good  is  heaven.  Whatever  outward  circumstances 
may  be,  potentially,  substantially,  ultimately,  this  is  heaven. 
He  that  is  like  God  shall  dwell  with  God.  The  son  shall 
be  in  his  father's  house.  He  shall  abide  forever.  For 
this  we  bless  thee,  O  our  Father.  Cease,  my  friends,  your 
disputes  about  religion.  He  that  is  like  God  shall  dwell 
with  God,  and  he  that  is  not  like  God,  shall  not  dwell  with 
him. 

We  thus  see  that  man  must  be  in  the  highest  rank  of 
created  beings,  and  how  it  is  that  his  manifoldness  is  a 
proof  of  his  greatness.  Touching  the  extremes  of  being, 
he  is  capable  of  development  on  the  level  of  any  nature  of 


148  THE    MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN. 

which  he  is  partaker,  and  at  any  point  along  a  line  that 
reaches  from  the  instinct  of  the  animal  up  to  God  himself. 
He  may  become  an  animal,  or  simply  human,  or  devilish, 
or  divine.  Made  in  the  image  of  God,  capable  of  indefin- 
ite progress,  of  falling  to  a  depth  profound  in  proportion  to 
the  height  to  which  he  can  rise,  no  wider  scope  could  be 
given  to  the  imagination  than  is  now  given,  when  the  ques- 
tion is  asked  concerning  any  child,  "What  manner  of  child 
shall  this  be  ? "  You  my  friends  are  no  longer  children, 
but  men,  and  in  view  of  the  wide  range  of  possibilities  now 
presented  before  you,  I  ask  you.  What  manner  of  men  will 
you  be?  I  come  to  you  individually,  and  with  affectionate 
earnestness  and  deep  solicitude,  ask  each  one  of  you.  What 
manner  of  man  will  you  be  ? 

The  question,  observe,  is  not.  What  will  you  get  ?  but, 
What  will  you  be?  The  first  is  the  paramount  question 
with  selfishness ;  the  second,  with  reason  and  religion. 
In  asking  the  first,  you  are  not  necessarily  selfish  ;  in 
making  it  paramount,  you  are.  In  seeking,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  be  great,  good,  noble  like  God,  you  are  indeed 
consulting  your  own  good  most  wisely,  but  are  not  selfish, 
for  how  can  a  man  be  selfish,  when  his  very  object  is  to  be 
benevolent.  How  be  selfish  in  seeking  to  be  like  God,  for 
God  is  love.  This  question,  then,  I  ask  with  emphasis, 
for  under  the  government  of  God  your  all  must  depend 
upon  it.  And  not  only  do  I  ask  it.  Your  parents  and 
near  friends,  to  whom  you  owe  every  thing,  ask  it.  Your 
country  asks  it.  The  church  of  God  asks  it.  The  na- 
tions that  are  in  ignorance,  and  under  oppression,  ask  it. 
And  I  doubt  not  there  is,  at  this  solemn  moment  in  your 
own  hearts,  a  "  still  small  voice,"  in  which  God  is,  that 
asks  it.     What  manner  of  men  will  you  be  ? 

This  question,  as  put  to  you,  I  desire  to  limit  as  I  have 
not  done  in  the  general  discussion.     That  was  in  view  of 


THE   MANIFOLDNESS  OF  MAN.  1 49 

two  kinds  of  diversity  that  must  be  discriminated.  There 
is  one  having  its  root  in  repugnance  and  opposition, 
involving  elements  that  can  never  be  brought  into  har- 
mony, and  that  can  have  no  unity  even,  except  as  there  is 
fixed  between  them  a  great  and  impassable  gulf.  For  this 
gulf  there  is  provision  in  the  essential  difference  of  moral 
good  and  evil ;  and  while  these  may  be  embraced  in  the 
unity  of  one  government  of  eternal  righteousness,  yet  this 
can  be  only  on  the  condition  that  that  gulf  shall  h^  fixed. 

But  there  is  also  a  diversity  which  springs  from  unity, 
and  is  the  basis  of  harmony  ;  and  within  this  limit  diver- 
sity is  a  good.  Only  through  this  can  we  have  the  riches 
and  beauty,  as  well  as  the  harmony  of  the  universe.  In 
this  we  have  the  one  light  refracted  into  its  seven  colors, 
making  the  earth  green,  and  the  sky  blue,  and  the  clouds 
gorgeous.  In  this  is  the  one  sound  now  parting  itself  into 
its  seven  notes  for  music,  now  articulating  itself  in  speech, 
now  becoming  the  chirp  of  the  cricket,  and  now  the  roar 
of  the  thunder.  In  this  is  the  one  water  seen  in  mist,  in 
dew,  in  steam,  in  ice,  in  snow,  in  the  green  heaving  ocean, 
and  in  the  rainbow  that  spans  it.  In  this  is  the  one  body 
with  its  organs,  the  one  tree  with  its  branches,  the  one 
universe  with  its  suns,  and  planets,  and  satellites,  and 
comets.  Within  this  limit,  the  wider  the  diversity,  the 
richer  are  the  fields  opening  to  us  in  science,  in  beauty, 
and  in  character. 

And  now,  when  I  put  this  question  to  you,  I  would 
have  all  your  diversity  within  this  limit.  I  wish  to  speak 
with  you  of  no  other.  This  will  involve  no  restriction, 
no  monotony,  or  tameness,  or  repression  of  any  manly 
energy,  no  abatement  of  the  zest  and  foam  and  sparkle 
of  life.  It  will  only  lift  you  above  obstructions,  and  enable 
you  to  move  calmly  and  freely,  as  the  balloon  that  floats  in 
the  long  upper  currents,  instead  of  being  whirled  in  the 


150  THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN. 

lower  tempests,  and  wrecked  among  the  branches.  O, 
could  1  but  know  that  all  your  diversity  would  range  with- 
in this  limit,  that  you  would  all  be  Christians,  true  follow- 
ers of  the  Lord  Jesus,  almost  would  T  say  to  you,  Be  what 
you  please.  Certainly  I  should  prefer,  since  one  star 
differs  from  another  star  in  glory,  that  you  should  not  be 
among  those  less  bright.  But  only  be  a  star.  Shine  and, 
choose  your  own  shade  of  light.  Be  Paul,  or  Peter,  or 
John,  or  James,  or  even  Thomas ;  any  of  them  but  Judas. 
Be  a  Luther,  or  Melancthon  ;  be  Jonathan  Edwards,  or 
Plarlan  Page  ;  be — but  I  will  go  no  further  ;  I  will  rather 
recall  what  I  have  said,  and  say  to  you,  Be  yourselves. 
Bring  out  your  own  individuality.  It  is  your  own.  As 
such,  respect  and  cherish  it,  only  avoiding  all  affected 
singularity.  If  it  be  different  from  that  of  others,  do  not 
be  troubled.  It  ought  to  be.  Bring  it  out  in  its  sim- 
plicity, anywhere  within  the  broad  light  and  expanse  of 
the  one  perfect  example.  Christ  was  peculiar,  but  not 
singular,  except  as  Mount  Blanc  and  the  Ocean  are  singu- 
lar. So  be  you,  and  you  shall  polish  a  gem  for  its  setting 
in  the  diadem  of  Him  who  weareth  many  crowns,  that 
shall  have  in  it  shades  and  lines  that  no  other  can  have. 

And  while  I  thus  call  upon  you  to  bring  out  your  own 
individuality,  let  me  say  to  you  also.  Respect  that  of 
others ;  and  not  only  so,  appreciate  it,  and  rejoice  in  its 
manifestation.  Nothing  is  more  needed  among  men  than 
the  power  and  readiness  to  do  this,  and  to  accept  in  relig- 
ion, in  politics,  and  in  social  life,  those  diversities  of 
belief  and  of  forms  which  spring  from  this,  but  which  yet 
have  their  root  in  essential  unity,  and  no  more  cease 
to  be  of  it  than  men  of  different  colors  cease  to  be  of  the 
race.  To  do  this,  is  liberality,  in  distinction  from  lax- 
ness  and  indifference  to  the  truth.  This  God  intended 
should  be.     It  is  not  for  nothing,  that  the  notes  of  birds; 


THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN.  15 1 

and  the  colors  of  flowers,  and  the  outlines  of  mountains 
differ  yet  are  all  pleasing.  It  is  not  for  nothing,  that  we 
are  told  that  the  foundations  of  the  New  Jersualem  are  of 
twelve  manner  of  precious  stones ;  and  the  Jasper  is  not 
better  than  the  sapphire,  nor  the  sapphire  than  the  emer- 
ald, nor  the  emerald  than  the  amethyst,  and  all  are  better 
than  any  one  would  be,  and  all  are  one  in  their  common 
nature  as  gems,  and  in  their  common  office  of  adorning 
and  supporting  the  heavenly  city.  How  to  draw  the  line 
rightly  in  particular  cases,  no  rules  can  be  given  ;  but  you 
see  the  general  principle,  and  I  beseech  you  to  do  this 
wisely  and  liberally,  remembering  that  it  is  the  tendency 
of  egotism  and  selfishness  to  fall  into  clannishness,  and 
into  a  party  and  sectarian  spirit,  and  to  magnify  non- 
essentials. 

In  the  light  of  what  has  been  said,  let  me  turn  your 
thoughts  to  the  provision  God  has  made  for  the  growth  and 
enjoyment  of  his  creatures  as  intelligent,  and  aside  from 
the  affections.  For  these  the  great  conditions,  in  the  con- 
struction of  his  works,  are,  first,  unity.  By  this  is  not 
meant  an  indivisible  unit  of  which  there  may  be  any  num- 
ber without  either  unity  or  harmony,  and  which  must  re- 
main unfruitful ;  but  a  unity  like  those  spoken  of  above, 
capable  of  being  parted  into  diversity,  and  of  returning  to 
itself  again.  The  second  condition  is  diversity — not  mere- 
ly numerical,  but  that  which  is  implied  in  parts  having 
relation  to  a  common  whole.  The  third  condition  is  har- 
mony, that  is,  such  a  relation  of  parts  to  each  other  and  to 
the  whole,  as  to  realize  and  complete  our  conception  of  that 
whole.  For  intellectual  growth  and  enjoyment,  a  percep- 
tion of  these  is  all  that  is  needed  ;  and  how  inexhaustible 
these  are,  and  how  wonderfully  blended  in  this  universe,  I 
need  not  say.  In  this  view  of  it,  the  universe  is  an  organ 
that  constantly  discourses  music  to  angels  and  to  God. 
6 


152  THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF  MAN. 

The  relations  of  its  parts  at  a  given  moment,  in  their  ad- 
justment to  each  other  and  to  ends,  are  its  harmony,  and 
the  succession  of  its  events  are  its  melody.  Its  harmony 
we  can  begin  to  study.  Of  the  melody  we  can  know  com- 
paratively nothing:,  for  our  time  is  too  brief;  but  we  may 
be  sure  that  both  will  forever  increase. 

In  view  of  what  has  been  said,  you  will  also  be  able, 
not  only  to  estimate  the  place  and  value  of  diversity  in  the 
universe,  but  also  of  what  has  been  called  many-sidedness, 
in  the  individual.  Plainly  this  is  a  proof  of  greatness. 
At  times  the  admiration  for  this  has  been  overdone,  and 
there  has  been  about  it,  in  certain  quarters,  something  of 
cant.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  those  who  say  that  a 
man  can  excel  in  but  one  thing,  and  should  attend  to  but 
one.  Doubtless  the  greatest  effect  requires  concentration, 
and  there  should  be  no  attempt  at  varied  excellence  that 
would  diminish  this  ;  but  there  are  few  occupations  iu 
which  all  that  a  man  can  do  may  not  be  done  with  less 
than  his  whole  energies  ;  the  use  of  the  powers  in  different 
directions  gives  diversion  and  strength,  and  there  seems 
no  good  reason  why  a  man  may  not  gain  excellence  in  all 
the  directions  in  which  he  is  capable  of  development. 
Why  may  not  a  man  cultivate  both  muscle  and  mind,  both 
mathematics  and  music,  both  poetry  and  philosophy  ?  I 
trust  you  will  shrink  into  no  one  channel,  but  will  continue 
to  advance  in  a  liberal  culture. 

Once  more,  if  the  rank  of  man  be  so  high  and  his 
capacities  so  great,  then  is  this  world  a  fit  theatre  for  that 
great  redemption  which  the  Scriptures  reveal.  Between 
him  and  that  redemption  there  is  no  want  of  congruity  or 
proportion.  Some  there  are  who  speak  of  this  world  as  a 
mere  speck  in  the  universe,  and  of  man  as  too  inconsider- 
able to  be  the  object  of  such  regard  as  is  implied  in  the 
coming  and  death,  for  him,  of  the  Son  of  God.     But  so  far 


THE   MANIFOLDNESS   OF  MAN.  153 

as  is  possible  for  any  creature,  man  takes  hold  on  infinity. 
He  is  a  child  oi  God,  and  in  the  dealings  of  God  with  him 
there  may  be  involved  all  those  principles  of  wisdom  and 
righteousness  and  mercy  which  can  be  involved  in  the  di- 
vine government  any  where,  and  so  the  whole  universe, 
mighty  as  it  is,  may  be  brought,  through  man,  to  the  "light 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God."  Little  can  they 
who  think  thus,  have  meditated  upon  those  sublime  and 
consoling  words  of  the  Apostle,  "  Beloved,  now  are  we  thf  ■ 
sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  3 
but  we  know  that,  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like 
him  ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 

Finally,  my  friends,  if  there  is,  in  the  capacities  of  man 
a  fit  occasion  and  ground  for  the  redemption  revealed  in 
the  Scriptures,  so  is  there  in  his  diversities  a  fit  occasion 
and  ground  for  that  future  and  final  Judgment  which  they 
also  reveal.  How  could  these  diversities  be  greater  ? 
How  is  everything  respecting  God  and  his  government, 
even  to  his  very  being,  denied,  questioned,  challenged, 
ridiculed,  mocked  ?  Taken  by  itself,  how  tangled,  per- 
plexed, and  insoluble  by  reason,  is  the  present  state? 
What  shades  of  character  !  What  modifications  of  respon- 
sibility !  What  wrongs  unredressed  !  What  questions  cut 
short  by  death  !  And  in  connection  with  these,  what  scope 
for  the  application,  in  every  delicate  adjustment,  of  every 
principle  of  moral  government !  Probably  in  no  other  way 
than  by  such  a  Judgment,  could  these  diversities  be  re- 
duced to  the  comprehension  of  finite  minds,  and  the  ways 
of  God  to  man  be  vindicated.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the 
reality  of  what  God  does,  and  proposes  to  do,  transcends 
all  that  man  could  have  imagined  to  be  possible,  and  hence 
many  deny  this  also.  They  say,  "  Where  is  the  promise 
of  his  coming?  "  "  But  the  day  of  the  Lord  will  come  as 
a  thief  in  the  night."     "The  Son  of  man  shall  sit  on  the 


154  THE  MANIFOLDNESS   OF   MAN. 

throne  of  his  glory,  and  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all 
nations."  This  we  believe,  will  be  the  next  great  epoch 
in  this  world's  history.  And  in  view  of  it,  I  ask  the  ques- 
tion no  longer  in  regard  to  this  world.  What  manner  of 
men  will  you  be?  This  world  and  its  scenes,  now  so  bright 
before  you,  will  be  nothing  then.  I  ask  this  question  in 
view  of  that  day  when  there  will  be  but  one  alternative. 
What  manner  of  men  will  you  then  be? 


IX. 

NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST. 

Gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain,  that  nothing  be  lost.— John,  vi.  12. 

A  MONG  the  more  striking  miracles  wrought  by  our 
-^^  Saviour,  was  that  of  feeding  five  thousand  men  from 
five  barley  loaves  and  two  small  fishes.  But,  striking  as  it 
was,  it  was  simply  a  reproduction,  in  a  different  form,  of 
the  great  miracle  of  nature  that  is  constantly  going  on 
around  us.  The  miracle  was  not  at  all  in  the  things  made, 
but  wholly  in  the  manner  of  making  them.  Bread  had  been 
made  before,  and  as  good  bread  ;  and  there  had  been  fish 
before  ;  but  never  before  had  they  been  formed  at  once,  by 
the  energy  of  will,  from  their  original  and  simple  elements. 
In  both  cases  the  elements  existed.  There  was  no  new 
creation ;  but  in  the  miracle  they  were  brought  together  in 
a  manner  entirely  different. 

When  the  sower  sows  the  seed  in  which  is  the  nucleus, 
the  possibility,  and  the  promise  of  all  the  bread  that  is  to 
be  eaten  the  succeeding  year,  where  are  the  materials  out 
of  which  that  bread  is  to  be  made  ?  They  exist,  but  are 
dispersed  hither  and  thither,  and  are  held  in  different  affin- 
ities. No  human  eye  can  see,  and  no  skill  can  detect  them 
They  are  like  an  army  in  ambush,  ready  to  come  at  the 
appointed  signal,  but  answering  only  to  that. 

And  now  the  earth  receives  the  seed.  It  is  buried,  but 
not  forgotten.     Small  as  it  is,  the  ocean  knows  of  it  and 

***  July  29,  i860. 


1^6  NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST. 

offers  it  moisture ;  and  the  atmosphere  knows  of  it,  and  is 
ready  with  its  invisible  fingers  to  lift  the  mist,  and  fashion 
the  cloud-car,  and  transport  the  moisture  to  it.  The  sun, 
too,  distant  as  it  is,  remembers  it,  and  sends  it  heat  and 
light.  These  provoke  its  hidden  life^  and  the  roots  shoot 
downwards,  and  the  stem,  upwards.  But  in  those  roots, 
and  in  that  stem,  there  is  no  particle  that  will  make  bread. 
There  must  first  be  a  blossom,  and  then  a  receptacle  form- 
ed, and  then  the  stalk  of  grain  must  set  itself  at  work,  and 
the  earth,  and  the  air,  and  the  sun,  electricity  and  magnet- 
ism, agents,  visible  and  invisible,  must  give  their  aid  ;  and 
then  the  particles  of  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  and  nitrogen 
and  carbon,  will  come  from  their  hiding  places  and  mar- 
shal themselves  into  starch  and  gluten,  and  the  full  seed 
will  be  formed.  The  yellow  harvest  shall  lift  itself  towards 
heaven,  and  wave  and  toss  itself  in  the  wind,  a  gift  from 
all  the  elements  and  agencies  of  nature  to  man.  So  do 
they  all  serve  him.  Then  comes  the  harvesting,  and  thresh- 
ing, and  winnowing,  and  grinding,  and  leavening  ;  and  then 
the  fire  does  its  work,  and  it  is  bread.  Through  the  pro- 
cesses of  a  year,  through  changes  so  slow  and  minute  as  to 
escape  observation  at  the  time,  by  the  combined  agencies 
of  the  earth,  and  air,  and  ocean,  of  the  sun  and  the  fire,  the 
materials  that  were  scattered  and  hidden,  have  heard  the 
call  that  was  made  for  them,  and  have  come  forth  ;  tliey 
have  entered  into  their  new  combinations,  and  have  become 
the  "  bread  that  strengtheneth  man's  heart." 

But  in  all  this  there  is  no  miracle.  There  is  nothing 
strange.  Oh,  no.  We  have  seen  it  all,  and  have  eaten 
such  bread  all  our  lives.  It  is  nature  that  does  all  this; 
or  nature  and  art ;  though  in  reality,  art,  human  art  and 
skill,  can  do  nothing  but  to  give  the  opportunity,  and  pro- 
vide the  conditions  for  nature  to  work.  Nature  it  is,  and 
there  is  nothing  strange  about  it. 


NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST.  157 

But  now,  instead  of  this  complicated  and  mighty  agency 
extending  over  months  of  time,  and  reaching  millions  of 
miles  into  space,  implicating,  indeed,  the  whole  planetary 
system,  instead  of  sympathies  and  interactions  between 
materials  where  there  is  no  direct  evidence  of  personality, 
and  so,  of  anything  above  what  we  call  nature,  there  comes 
One  who  claims  to  be  the  Lord  of  nature,  and  as  quietly 
as  the  sun  shines,  without  even  indicating  that  he  is  work- 
ing a  miracle,  he  calls  for  the  elements  to  come  from  their 
hiding  places,  and  enter  into  their  new  combinations,  and 
they  obey.  The  materials  were  all  around  him,  and  he 
controlled  their  affinities  at  once,  as  nature  controls  the 
same  affinities  in  her  long  processes.  The  simple  record 
is,  that  "  Jesus  took  the  loaves  ;  and  when  he  had  given 
thanks,  he  distributed  to  the  disciples,  and  the  disciples  to 
them  that  were  set  down  ;  and  likewise  of  the  fishes  as  much 
as  they  would."  There  was  no  seeming  effort,  no  ostent- 
ation, no  production  of  anything  but  barley  bread,  just  such 
bread  as  was  made  by  the  people,  and  of  fish  such  as  were 
caught  in  their  waters.  But  this  was  a  miracle,  a  strange 
thing,  so  strange  that  many  cannot  believe  it.  But  obvious- 
ly, if  we  had  been  accustomed  to  this,  and  then  had  seen 
the  other  for  the  first  time,  it  would  have  been  accounted 
by  far  the  greater  miracle. 

And  here  we  may  remark  what  a  testimony  the  mira- 
cles of  our  Saviour,  generally,  were  to  the  perfection  of  the 
works  of  God  in  nature,  and  so  to  his  own  oneness  with 
God.  As  the  bread  which  he  made  by  a  miracle  was  no 
better  than  that  made  by  the  ordinary  processes,  so  when 
he  raised  men  to  life,  it  was  to  the  same  life  that  they  had 
before,  and  that  other  men  have.  When  he  restored  a  pal- 
sied limb,  or  a  blind  eye,  it  only  became  as  it  was  before, 
or  like  other  limbs  and  eyes.  A  miracle  could  make  them 
no  better.     In  this  consists  the  simplicity  and  grandeur  of 


158  NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST. 

our  Saviour's  miracles,  and  in  this  the  force  of  their  inter- 
nal evidence  for  his  divine  mission.  He  honored  nature, 
while  he  showed  that  he  was  her  Lord. 

Thus  calling  the  materials  together  without  effort,  the 
Saviour  provided  for  the  wants  of  five  thousand  men.  Nor 
was  the  provision  scanty;  it  was  ample  and  bountiful. 
They  took  as  much  as  they  would,  and  the  fragments  left 
were  more  than  the  original  loaves  and  fishes. 

And  what  the  Saviour  did  at  that  time,  he  was  able  to 
do  at  any  time.  To  his  power  in  this  respect  there  was  no 
restriction.  Always  he  could  provide  for  himself  and  for 
his  disciples  in  the  same  free  and  magnificent  manner. 
And  now,  when  he  had  just  made  such  a  provision,  and 
had  it  in  his  power  to  do  so  at  any  time,  shall  he  care  for 
the  remnants,  the  fragments  that  remain  ?  Not  so  should 
we  have  done.  But,  and  this  is  not  the  least  remarkable 
part  of  the  transaction,  the  Saviour  did  thus  care.  "  When 
they  were  filled,  he  said  unto  his  disciples,  Gather  up  the 
fragments  that  remain,  that  nothing  be  lost."  The  same 
thing  also  he  did  on  another  occasion,  when  he  had  fed  a 
multitude  in  a  similar  manner. 

What  then  have  we  here  ?  Something  of  penuriousness 
and  smallness  ?  of  an  undue  desire  of  saving  ?  That  can 
hardly  be  in  him  who  never  owned  property,  and  who  had 
just  dispensed  his  bounties  so  freely.  Have  we  then  a 
command  appropriate  only  to  that  time  and  place?  or 
have  we,  as  in  so  many  other  instances  of  the  sayings  of 
our  Saviour,  clothed  in  a  particular  and  individual  form,  a 
universal  maxim,  a  great  principle  of  the  government  of 
God,  and  one  that  should  regulate  the  conduct  of  men  ? 
Are  these  words  as  the  index  of  a  partial  and  local  force  ? 
or  are  they  as  the  magnetic  needle  that  indicates  the  polar 
forces  of  this  planet,  and,  so  far  as  we  may  conjecture,  of 
all  planets  and  systems  ?     Are  they  the  word  of  the  indi- 


NOTHING   TO    BE   LOST.  1 59 

vidual  speaking  for  that  time  and  place,  or  of  the  Lawgiver, 
speaking  for  all  times  and  for  all  places  ?  "  Gather  up 
the  fragments  that  remain  that  nothing  be  lost."  Why 
should  anything  be  lost  ? 

Anything  once  possessed  is  said  to  be  lost,  when  it  is  so 
concealed  or  removed  from  us  that  we  do  not  know  where  it 
is.  The  piece  of  silver  in  search  of  which  the  woman 
swept  the  house,  was  lost.  The  sheep  which  had  wan 
dered  away,  and  which  the  owner  brought  back  rejoicing 
had  been  lost. 

Anything  is  also  said  to  be  lost,  when  it  fails  to 
accomplish  the  end  for  which  it  was  made  or  given.  A 
journey  is  lost,  when  the  end  for  which  it  was  undertaken 
is  not  accomplished.  A  day  is  lost,  when  in  it,  no  good 
is  done  ;  an  education  is  lost  when  no  use  is  made  of 
it ;  a  man  is  lost  when  he  becomes  hopelessly  a  drunkard, 
or  is  given  over  to  any  vice.  We  know  where  to  find  him, 
but  he  is  lost. 

That  a  thing  should  be  lost  in  the  first  sense  is  acci- 
dental, and  incident  to  us  from  the  limitation  of  our  facul- 
ties. Not  so  with  God.  To  the  Omniscient,  nothing  can 
be  hidden,  or  obscure,  or  remote ;  and  if  in  his  agency  he 
shall  fail  to  cause  any  past  event  to  be  brought  to  its  bear- 
ings, or  any  existing  thing  to  accomplish  its  end,  it  will 
not  be  because  he  does  not  know  what  it  is,  or  where  to 
find  it.  In  our  agency  a  thing  may  be,  and  often  is  lost 
in  the  second  sense,  because  it  is  in  the  first.  We  fail  to 
put  a  thing  to  its  use  because  we  do  not  know  where  to 
find  it. 

It  is  plainly  in  the  second  sense,  that  the  term  "  lost  " 
was  used  by  our  Saviour  in  the  text.  It  was  not  that  there 
was  danger  of  concealment,  but  of  waste.  It  is  in  this 
sense  that  God  would  have  nothing  lost. 

The  principle  involved   in   the  text  manifests  itself  in 
4 


l60  NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST. 

two  forms,  both  in  human  affairs  and  in  the  divine  admin- 
istration. In  the  one  it  respects  economy  of  force  when 
any  thing  is  to  be  done  ;  and  in  the  other  the  waste  of 
material  or  of  means  when  anything  is  possessed.  Let  us 
look  at  the  Divine  administration  with  reference  to  both 
of  these. 

And  first,  of  the  economy  of  force. 

If  we  consider  those  forces  that  operate  in  free  space, 
by  which  the  planets  and  planetary  systems  are  moved 
with  such  velocity,  and  guided  with  such  precision,  we 
have  no  means  of  measuring  any  thing  except  by  the 
results.  But  these  will  suffice  for  us.  When  the  earth 
comes  round  to  a  given  star  at  the  appointed  and  predicted 
moment,  we  must  know  that  not  one  iota  of  the  force  that 
brought  it  there  could  have  been  spared.  It  is  just  brought 
there,  and  no  more.  When  gravitation  draws  the  earth  to 
the  sun,  it  is  by  a  force  that  just  retains  it  in  its  orbit,  and 
no  more  ;  and  the  opposite  force  that  would  drive  it  into 
lawlessness  and  seclusion,  is  but  just  sufficient  to  prevent 
it  from  falling  into  the  sun.  As  the  avalanche  is  suspended 
by  a  balance  of  forces  so  delicate  that  the  traveller  who 
walks  beneath  fears  even  to  whisper  lest  it  should  be 
launched  upon  him,  so  hang  the  heavens.  The  slightest 
difference  of  adjustment,  the  least  diminution  of  force,  in 
any  direction,  would  ultimately  bring  the  system  rushing 
together  to  the  centre,  or  scatter  it  hopelessly. 

And  what  is  true  of  the  forces  that  act  at  such  vast 
distances,  is  equally  true  of  those  that  are  acting  around 
us,  and  at  distances  that  are  inappreciable.  The  affinities 
by  which  solid  bodies  and  gases  are  held  together  are  so 
balanced  that  a  less  amount  in  any  direction  would  unchain 
their  elements,  and  the  atmosphere  would  be  decomposed, 
and  the  earth  would  effervesce  and  boil  like  lime  when  it 
is  slackin^r. 


NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST.  l6r 

We  may  notice,  also,  not  only  a  balance  of  forces,  im- 
plying a  minimum  in  both  directions,  but  also  the  different 
and  apparently  opposite  offices  which  the  same  agents  and 
forces  subserve.  Under  precisely  the  same  outward  con- 
ditions, acted  upon  by  the  same  outward  agents — the  same 
atmosphere,  and  storms,  and  sunshine — a  tree  that  is  grow- 
ing shall  be  carried  up  to  its  perfection,  and  one  that  is 
decaying  shall  be  resolved  into  its  original  elements.  It 
is  in  this  way  that  the  constant  circuit,  and  interdependent 
succession  of  life  and  death  is  kept  up. 

But  perhaps  the  economy  of  force  is  best  illustrated  in 
the  structure  of  animals,  where  there  is  not,  in  the  same 
way,  a  balance  of  forces,  but  simply  mechanism.  Take 
the  skeleton  of  any  animal,  and  let  the  problem  be  to  cause 
it  to  perform  the  same  variety  of  motions  that  the  animal 
can  perform,  and  with  the  same  rapidity,  and  the  forces 
can  be  applied  only  as  they  are  in  the  animal.  In  every 
animal,  regarding  its  structure,  and  its  position  and  sur- 
roundings relative  to  that,  in  the  bird  that  flies,  the  fish 
that  swims,  the  worm  that  crawls,  the  insect  that  creeps, 
in  the  four-footed  animal,  and  in  man,  the  economy  offeree 
is  absolutely  perfect.  In  no  instance  has  any  mechanician 
been  able  to  show  how  this  economy  could  be  greater. 
On  the  contrary,  mechanicians  have  borrowed  many  hints 
from  the  structure  of  animals  for  the  economy  of  force,  and 
might  borrow  more  ;  for  her  motors  are  all  perfect,  both 
in  their  principle  and  in  the  mode  of  its  application. 
Guided  by  the  principle  that  nature  does  nothing  in  vain, 
Harvey  discovered  the  circulation  of  the  blood  ;  and 
guided  by  the  principle  that  she  does  everything  in  the 
simplest  and  best  way,  the  mechanician,  if  he  will  but  al- 
low for  the  difference  of  circumstances,  may  safely  adopt 
any  of  her  models  and  methods. 

But   on  this  point  there  is   no   need  of  detail.     The 


1 62  NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST. 

principle  contended  for  is  involved  in  one  of  those  broad 
inductions  of  Newton,  which  has  been  universally  accepted 
as  a  law  of  philosophizing.  The  law  is,  "  That  no  more, 
and  no  other  causes  are  to  be  allowed,  than  are  sufficient 
to  explain  the  appearances." 

Having  thus  considered  the  economy  of  force,  we  next 
look  at  that  of  material  and  of  means.  Between  these, 
the  relation  is  intimate,  since  all  material  used,  and  all 
means  put  in  operation,  require  force. 

As  an  illustration  of  economy  in  both,  as  thus  related, 
but  especially  of  material,  we  may  take  the  stems  of  grasses 
and  of  grain.  Contrive,  if  you  can,  a  support  for  an  ear 
of  wheat  that  shall  be  adequate,  and  yet  have  in  it  less  of 
material  than  that  now  provided.  It  is  hollow  and  jointed, 
because,  with  a  given  amount  of  material,  it  is  thus  strong- 
er. The  same  principle  applies  to  the  bones  of  animals, 
and  to  the  quills  of  feathers.  How  perfectly  discriminat- 
ing, how  illustrative  of  the  principle  involved,  is  the  differ- 
ence here  between  a  stem  of  wheat  and  the  trunk  of  a 
tree  !  As  intended  but  for  a  season,  the  one,  though  ade- 
quate, is  hollow  and  fragile  ;  but  the  other,  as  solid,  has 
not  too  much  material  for  the  support  of  its  top,  and  to 
withstand  the  storms  ;  and  then  it  is  needed,  and  was 
intended,  as  a  supply  for  the  permanent  wants  of  man.  The 
provision  that  surrounds  the  germ  of  a  seed  is  just  enough 
to  support  the  young  plant  till  it  can  strike  its  roots  into 
the  earth,  and  no  more.  The  same  is  true  of  that  about 
the  vital  point  in  an  egg.  The  quantity  of  the  atmosphere 
is  just  sufficient  for  the  density  needed  to  bear  up  clouds 
and  birds,  to  give  force  to  winds,  that  they  may  waft  ships, 
and  for  the  pressure  needed  upon  animal  bodies.  The 
amount  of  heat  and  of  light  are  in  exact  accordance  with  the 
demands  of  vitality  and  of  vision.  Vast  as  it  is,  the  ocean 
is  not  too  large  for  the  evaporation  needed  to  supply  vege- 


NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST.  163 

tation,  and  wells  and  springs;  and  certain  it  is  that  the  earth, 
as  a  whole,  is  not  a  particle  too  large  in  its  relation  to 
other  bodies  to  hold  its  place  firmly,  and  exert  its  due 
influence  amidst  the  perturbations  and  actions  and  reac 
tions  of  the  system. 

Another  form   of   this  economy   may  be  noticed  in  the 
use  of  the  same  structure  or  substance  to  subserve  differ- 
ent purposes,  and  those  independent  of  each  other.     The 
lungs  have  an   adequate   end  in   the   oxygenation  of  the 
blood,  a  function  wholly  within  us,  and  so  vital  that  a  very 
brief  suspension  of  it  is  death.     They  might  seem  to  have 
sole  reference   to  that.     But  see  the   same  lungs  in  their 
connection   with  the  voice,  circulating  fresh   thought  and 
sentiment   through   society,  a  function   wholly  without  us, 
and  not  less  vital  to  it  than  the  renovation  of  the  blood  is 
to  the  body.     The   one  substance,  oxygen,  is  a  main  con- 
stituent of  water,  of  the   atmosphere,  of  all  acids,  of  all 
vegetable  products,  and  of  most   mineral  substances   and 
rocks  as  found  in  nature.     It  gives  its  heat  to  fire,  its  acidity 
to  vinegar,  and  to  potash  its  caustic  power.     It  is  the  vital 
element  of  the  atmosphere,  and  its  destructive  element. 
Water  !     How  common  it  is,  yet  how  manifold  in  its  uses  ! 
It  becomes  ice,  and  so  a  reservoir  of  cold  for  the  summer  . 
it  becomes  steam  and  so   a  power  in   locomotion  and  in 
manufacturing  ;  it  becomes  vapor,  and  so  fits  the  air  to  be 
breathed,   and   descends  in  dew ;  it  becomes  clouds,  and 
so  transports  the  rain  ;  it  becomes  snow,  and  so  gives  the 
earth  its  winter  robe.     It  is  the  element  and  home  of  all 
fish,  and  of  the  monsters  of  the  deep  ;  it  is  the  chief  con- 
stituent of  all  fluids  of  plants  and  of  animals  ;  it  quenches 
thirst ;  it  is   the   great  cleanser  and  purifier ;  it  is  an  ele- 
ment of  beauty.     With   no   running  water,  with  no  tossing 
ocean,  with  no  cataracts,  no  dew,  no  changing  clouds,  now 
dark  and  seamed  with  lightning,  now  fleecy  and  mottled 


164  NOTHING  TO    BE   LOST. 

with  the  blue  beyond,  and  now  gorgeous  in  the  sunset, 
with  no  showers,  and  no  rainbow,  where  would  the  beauty 
of  the  earth  be  ?  And  all  this  from  the  one  substance, 
water  !  What  economy  of  material !  It  would  seem  as  if 
no  property  or  capacity  of  usefulness  in  this  substance 
could  be  lost. 

The  same  principle  also  appears  in  the  results  of  all 
decomposition.  This  seems  a  destruction  ;  but  in  the 
sense  of  annihilation  there  is  no  destruction.  In  this  sense 
nothing  has  ever  been  lost.  The  materials  merely  change 
their  forms,  and  enter  into  new  combinations.  The  ser- 
vants retire,  and  reappear  in  a  different  garb.  The  part- 
ners are  changed  ;  and  so,  like  a  star  in  the  heavens,  each 
changing  particle  of  matter  walks  its  appointed  round.  Of 
this  economy  in  connection  with  apparent  destruction,  we 
find  large  evidence  in  geology.  There  have,  it  seems,  been 
creations  and  epochs  long  since  that  have  come  to  an  end  ; 
but  when  they  did  so,  the  command  was  given  to  the  earth, 
"Gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain,  that  nothing  be 
lost,"  and  the  earth  heard  and  obeyed.  And  now  we  have 
these  fragments  in  the  form  of  soil  and  drift ;  in  granite 
and  marble  ;  in  mines  and  coal-beds  ;  in  foot-prints  and 
fossils,  for  the  profit  and  instruction  of  those  who  now 
live ;  and  probably  much  more,  of  those  who  shall  live 
hereafter. 

But  while  these  instances  are  sufficient  to  establish  the 
principle,  there  are  objections  and  difficulties.  There  is 
apparent  waste.  Large  portions  of  the  earth  are  mere 
sandy  plains,  deserts,  or  inaccessible  mountains  ;  and  upon 
these  the  sunshine  and  rain  and  dews  descend.  There  is 
also  an  apparent  and  great  waste  of  the  germs  of  life. 

In  reply,  it  may  be  said  that  deserts  and  mountains  are 
of  use  physically.  "  Were  it  not,"  says  Maury,  "for  the 
Great  Desert  of  Sahara,  and  other  arid  plains  of  Africa  the 


NOTHING  TO   BE  LOST.  165 

western  shores  of  that  continent,  within  the  trade-wind 
region,  would  be  almost,  if  not  altogether,  as  rainless  and 
sterile  as  the  desert  itself.  We  are  to  regard  the  sandy 
deserts,  and  arid  plains,  and  the  inland  basins  of  the  earth, 
as  compensations  in  the  great  system  of  atmospherical  cir- 
culation." The  inaccessible  and  snow-capped  mountains 
condense  the  moisture  and  form  water-sheds.  They  are 
as  a  hand  lifted  up  to  compress  the  distended  atmosphere^ 
and  to  return  to  the  ocean  in  long,  and  fertilizing,  and 
navigable  rivers,  the  tribute  it  had  given. 

But  aside  from  this,  if  we  admit,  as  we  must,  moral  con- 
siderations and  reasons,  these  difficulties  vanish  !  Those 
deserts  are  not  too  large,  or  sterile,  to  be  a  mirror  in  which 
the  man  who  receives  the  blessings  of  God  and  makes  no 
return,  may  see  his  own  features  reflected.  Those  moun- 
tains of  rock  are  not  too  hard  and  unimpressible  to  repre- 
sent that  adamant  that  can  resist  a  Saviour's  love.  Those 
germs  of  life  destroyed  are  not  too  many,  or  too  precious, 
to  show  what  is  possible  in  regard  to  those  powers  and  ca- 
pabilities which  every  man  has,  and  which  he  may  dwarf 
and  ruin.  Without  a  correspondence  between  external 
nature  and  the  character  of  man,  the  end  of  probation  here 
could  not  be  reached;  and  without  these  and  similar  fea- 
tures and  facts  in  nature,  that  correspondence  could  not 
exist. 

To  many,  the  above  would  be  a  sufficient  solution  of 
the  difficulties.     It  is  so  to  me.     But  there  is  another. 

It  is  plain  that  there  is,  in  this  world,  a  great  work  car- 
ried on  through,  or  in  accordance  with,  what  we  call  gen- 
eral laws.  It  is  thus  that  the  rain  and  the  sunshine  descend, 
and  that  the  current  of  life,  broad  and  deep,  is  kept  in  its 
even  flow.  To  this  the  earth  as  a  whole  and  the  elements 
minister.  In  this  great  work  it  could  not  be  expected  that 
whe  sun  should  withhold  his  beams  from  every  barren  spot, 


l66  NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST. 

or  that  the  rain  should  skip  and  shun  every  stone  and  sand- 
bank. This  would  be  petty,  not  in  accordance  with  the 
nature  of  general  laws,  or  with  the  dignity  of  the  divine 
government.  The  great  work  is  done.  The  current  of 
life  flows  on,  and  no  more.  The  nations  are  fed  ;  and  if 
there  are  outlying  facts,  the  bearing  of  which  upon  the  re- 
sult we  do  not  see,  we  may  well  class  them  with  fragments 
that  remain,  which  will  be  used  at  another  time,  or  are  used 
in  other  connections. 

On  the  whole,  then,  we  conclude  that  the  economy  of 
God,  both  with  respect  to  force  and  to  material,  is  perfect. 
In  so  wide  a  reach,  where  we  confessedly  know  so  little,  it 
is  not  reasonable  that  a  conclusion  so  borne  out  by  the 
great  mass  and  current  of  facts  should  be  held  in  abeyance 
out  of  respect  to  mere  exceptional  eddies.  Sustained, 
therefore,  by  the  science  of  the  nineteenth  century,  we  ven- 
ture with  the  fullest  confidence,  in  regard  to  every  particle 
of  this  universe,  the  assertion  implied  in  the  sublime  inter- 
rogatories of  the  prophet :  "  Who  hath  measured  the  waters 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and  meted  out  heaven  with  the 
span,  and  comprehended  the  dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure, 
and  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales,  and  the  hills  in  a 
balance } " 

The  principle  of  economy  thus  regarded  in  the  divine 
administration,  ought  to  be  equally  regarded  by  man  in  the 
conduct  of  life.  It  ought  to  be  thus  regarded,  but  is  not. 
Not  only  is  there  indolence,  and  so  dormancy  of  capacity, 
but  there  is  great  misdirection  of  force  and  waste  of  ma- 
terial. Who  is  there  that  gathers  what  he  might }  that  be 
comes  what  he  might  ?  that  acheives  what  he  might.?  In 
doing  each  and  all  of  these,  and  in  that  only,  would  be  the 
highest  success  ;  and  to  this,  economy  is  no  less  necessary 
than  energy.     The  monarch  who  conquers  a  country  pro- 


NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST.  167 

vides  for  retaining  it ;  without  this  his  victories  would  be 
fruitless,  and  they  become  available  only  as  he  can  incor- 
porate it  into  his  own  dominions,  and,  if  need  be,  make  it 
the  means  of  still  further  conquests.  So  it  is  with  us. 
The  two  elements  or  factors  of  success  in  life,  mental  ca- 
pacity being  given,  are  the  energy,  the  will,  needed  for  get- 
ting, and  for  achivement ;  and  the  economy  needed  for  so 
keeping  what  is  thus  gained,  that  nothing  shall  be  lost.  Of 
these  elements  the  first  is  more  exciting,  more  naturally 
attractive  of  sympathy,  and  has  received,  by  far,  greater 
attention.  Young  men  are  constantly  exhorted  to  energy 
and  enterprise,  to  perseverance  and  force  of  will,  while  the 
power  of  a  wise  economy  and  husbandry  of  resources  is 
disregarded. 

This  general  principle  needs  to  be  applied,  first,  in  re- 
gard to  health  and  physical  energy.  In  the  management 
of  these  there  has  been,  and  still  is,  unspeakable  loss. 
Let  the  pressure  of  necessity  be  removed,  and  men  have 
not  sufficient  resolution  and  self-control  to  comply  with  the 
conditions  of  physical  vigor.  Civilization,  the  accumula- 
tion of  wealth,  refinement,  leisure,  bring  facilities  for  vari- 
ous forms  of  indulgence  incompatible  with  this  vigor  in  its 
highest  form  j  and  so  uniform  is  this,  that  no  nation,  high- 
ly civilized,  has  escaped  physical  deterioration.  They 
have  not  learned  the  secret  of  gaining  in  refinement,  without 
losing  in  a  robust  manhood.  The  population  of  cities,  it  is 
said,  requires  to  be  renovated  by  men  fresh  from  the  coun- 
try every  third  generation,  and  that  it  is  such  men,  or  their 
descendants  of  the  second  generation,  who  hold  the  wealth 
and  places  of  influence  there.  Of  course  there  are  excep- 
tions, but  this  is  the  general  rule.  The  third  generation 
are  inferior,  both  physically  and  mentally.  They  are  sec- 
ond or  third  rate  men.  Instead  of  being  judges  of  soils 
and  of  oxen,  they  are  judges  of  actors,  and  singers,  and 

4* 


IO«  NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST. 

neck-ties ;  instead  of  being  leaders  in  a  town  meeting,  they 
are  leaders  of  fashion.  They  become  dilettanti.  They 
drink,  they  gamble,  they  give  themselves  up  to  pleasure, 
they  are  of  no  particular  use  in  the  world,  and  not  seldom 
either  they  or  their  children  are  beggars  in  the  streets 
where  their  fathers  were  merchant  princes.  Meantime, 
everywhere,  in  the  city  and  in  the  country,  in  the  count- 
ing house,  and  in  the  college,  men  are  drawn  into  "  the 
old  way,"  or  rather,  ways  "  which  wicked  men  have  trod- 
den." They  becomes  victims  of  licentiousness,  or  of  some 
form  of  artificial  stimulation  :  and  with  various  alterna- 
tions of  hope  and  fear  on  the  part  of  their  friends,  and  of 
successful  struggle  and  defeat,  they  become  a  curse  to 
society,  and  go  down  to  dishonored  graves.  The  promises 
of  early  life  are  not  met.  The  parental  hand  is  pierced  by 
the  reed  that  it  leans  upon.  Instead  of  fruit,  awakened 
hope  finds  ashes  in  her  grasp. 

Of  this  loss  something  is  due  to  ignorance,  but  there  is 
scarcely  any  one  whose  knowledge  is  not  in  advance  of  his 
practice  ;  and  where  that  is  the  case,  the  root  of  the  evil, 
and  generally  of  the  ignorance  itself,  lies  deeper.  It  lies  in 
the  insane  purpose  to  secure  present  enjoyment,  regardless 
of  consequences.  From  this  no  mere  regard  to  self-culture, 
to  the  laws  of  health,  to  enjoyment  on  the  whole,  will  hold 
the  masses  back  when  solicitation  stands  at  every  corner, 
and  addresses  every  sense.  Restraint  will  be  spurned,  and 
caution  mocked  at,  and  a  pure  and  efficient  manhood  will 
disappear.  This,  a  pervasive  Christianity  can  prevent, 
and  nothing  else  can.  Nothing  but  the  cross  of  Christ  can 
so  startle  the  spiritual  nature  from  its  torpor  as  to  make 
it  an  effectual  counterpoise  to  the  debasing  and  sensual 
tendencies  of  the  race.  Favored  by  temperament  and  edu- 
cation, individuals  may  measurably  escape,  but  if  the  race 
is  to  triumph  in  the  conflict  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit, 


NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST.  ^       1 69 

between  the  lower  propensities  and  the  higher  nature,  they 
must,  as  Constantine  is  said  to  have  done,  see  the  cross, 
and  on  it  the  motto,  "//z  hoc  signo  vmces^  By  this  sign 
you  shall  conquer. 

But,  secondly,  this  principle  is  peculiarly  applicable  in 
its  relation  to  time. 

There  is  a  low  philosophy  which  says  that  time  is  money. 
It  is  more  ;  it  is  the  interval  between  two  eternities ;  it  is 
life  ;  it  is  opportunity ;  it  is  salvation.  It  is  that  which, 
once  past,  comes  not  again.  It  fixes  the  past.  It  moulds 
the  future.  Money  cannot  buy  it.  A  dying  queen  may 
exclaim,  "  Millions  of  money  for  an  inch  of  time,"  but  the 
millions  will  not  buy  the  inch.  Money  has  no  relation  to 
it.  To  waste  it  costs  no  effort.  We  have  only  to  wrap  our 
talent  in  a  napkin  and  sit  still ;  but  to  improve  it  requires 
both  effort  and  wisdom,  for  it  may  be,  and  most  often  is, 
laboriously  wasted. 

*'  Gather  up  the  fragments  "  of  time,  "  that  nothing  be 
lost."  This  can  be  addressed  only  to  those  who  are  em- 
ploying the  greater  portion  of  their  time  in  some  earnest 
work.  He  who  floats  loosely  and  aimlessly  in  society  has 
no  fragments  of  time,  as  related  to  a  whole.  It  is  all  frag- 
ments. He  himself  is  a  fragment,  lying  useless,  and  his 
whole  life  requires  to  be  recast.  But  whatever  the  great 
business  of  a  man  may  be,  however  engrossing,  there  will 
always  be  some  fragments  of  time  that  will  remain  ;  and 
with  most  men  these  are  so  considerable,  that  the  dispos- 
ition made  of  them  will  greatly  modify  the  results  of  life. 
The  secret  of  doing  much  is  to  do  a  little  at  a  time,  but  to 
persevere  in  doing  it.  A  half  an  hour  a  day,  in  the  service 
of  an  earnest  purpose,  has  been  sufficient  for  the  acquisition 
of  languages  and  the  writing  of  books,  and  for  laying  the 
foundation  of  a  lasting  fame.  Even  the  minute  fragment 
required  for  drawing  his  waxed   ends,   was  employed  by 


170  NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST. 

Roger  Sherman  in  looking  on  his  book  open  before  him  ; 
and  it  was  thus  that  he  became  a  sage,  and  a  signer  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  Let  a  professional  man,  or 
any  man,  when  he  starts  in  life,  have  a  side  study,  be  it 
History,  or  a  Language,  or  Poetry,  or  any  branch  of  Na- 
tural History,  as  Geology,  and  let  him  give  to  it  the  frag- 
ments of  his  time,  and  he  will  be  surprised  at  his  own  ac- 
quisitions ;  the  whole  tone  of  his  thoughts  and  life  will  be 
elevated,  and  the  change  of  subject  will  be  his  best  recrea- 
tion. Of  such  a  pursuit  of  Minerology  and  Geology,  we 
have  a  striking  instance  in  this  vicinity.  And  what  is  thus 
true  in  literature  and  science,  is  still  more  so  in  religion, 
and  in  all  that  relates  to  duty.  There  is  no  time  too  brief 
for  an  ejaculatory  prayer.  When  the  countenance  of  Ne- 
hemiah  was  sad  for  the  desolations  of  Jerusalem,  and  the 
king  asked  him,  "What  is  thy  request?"  there  was  time 
between  the  question  and  the  answer  for  him  to  pray  "  to 
the  God  of  heaven."  If  the  object  of  this  world  had  been 
to  furnish  opportunities  for  doing  good,  it  could  hardly 
have  been  arranged  better  than  it  is  ;  and  whoever  has  a 
heart  set  upon  that,  will  have  no  need  that  any  fragments 
of  time  he  may  gather  up,  should  be  lost. 

But  once  more,  you  will  expect  me  to  say  that  this 
principle  applies  also  to  property. 

Owing  to  the  undue  estimate  of  wealth,  this  has  indeed 
been  supposed  to  be  the  special  field  and  domain  of  eco- 
nomy, and  there  are  those  who  make  it  their  chief  business 
to  practice  and  to  inculcate  a  small  economy  in  this  depart- 
ment. Certainly  the  principle  applies  here  as  elsewhere, 
Why  should  any  property  be  lost  ?  If  it  is  worth  the  get- 
ting, why  not  the  keeping  ?  It  is  by  saving,  no  less  than  by 
getting,  that  accumulation  comes  ;  and  failure  in  this  is 
oftenerfrom  a  want  of  economy  than  of  enterprise.  Should 
there  then  be  accumulation  ?     Certaialy.      The  right  of 


NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST.  17I 

property  is  given  by  God.  Property  itself,  that  is,  some- 
thing accumulated  and  kept,  is  a  necessity  for  society.  It 
not  only  confers  comfort  and  independence,  but  is  a  great 
and  desirable  power  for  good.  It  is  a  duty  to  give  ;  we 
are  commanded  to  give ;  but  he  who  has  nothing  can  give 
nothing.  This  is  commonly  thought  a  sufficient  excuse.  It 
may,  or  may  not  be.  It  is  so,  just  as  it  is  a  sufficient  ex- 
cuse for  begging,  that  a  man  has  nothing  to  eat.  But  how 
came  he  to  have  nothing  to  eat  ?  How  came  the  man  to 
have  nothing  to  give  .?  If  there  has  been  a  want,  either  of 
industry,  or  of  the  strictest  economy,  it  is  not  a  sufficient 
excuse.  Of  the  extent  of  this  accumulation,  with  its  temp- 
tations and  dangers,  I  am  not  now  to  speak.  Of  that  every 
man  must  judge  for  himself  But  be  it  greater  or  less,  there 
need  be  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  any  loss  of  property, 
any  want  of  economy  in  spending  it,  any  failure  to  save  any 
portion  of  it,  must  be  the  result  either  of  human  imperfec- 
tion or  of  sin. 

But  in  this  attention  to  minute  things,  this  regard  to 
fragments,  is  there  not  something  of  smallness  and  narrow- 
ness ;  of  a  carefulness  and  painstaking  not  compatible 
with  enjoyment  ^  Is  there  not  something  alien  from  the 
tone  and  temper  of  a  high  free  and  generous  spirit  .'* 
That  there  are  such  associations,  in  connection  with  what 
is  called  enonomy,  cannot  be  denied.  But  we  must  here 
make  distinctions.  There  is  that,  if  v/e  call  it  economy  at 
all,  which  must  be  called  a  wicked  economy.  It  is  that 
of  the  miser.  He  saves  for  the  sake  of  saving,  and  so 
loses  by  his  very  keeping.  The  fragments  were  to  be 
gathered  up,  not  that  they  should  be  carried  about  in  bas- 
kets and  kept  till  they  should  be  mouldy,  for  then  they 
would  have  been  lost  by  being  kept ;  but  that,  subsequent- 
ly, and  on  the  first  fit  occasion,  they  should  be  put  to  the 
use  for  which  they  were  made. 


1/2  NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST. 

There  is^  also,  as  I  have  said,  a  small  economy — a 
careful  parsimoniousness,  not  exactl}'  miserliness,  but 
bordering  upon  it.  It  is  born  of  fear,  has  reference  to 
self,  and  does  not  contemplate  use,  except  for  low  and 
personal  ends. 

There  is,  again,  an  honorable  economy,  having  for  its 
end  the  gratification  of  the  natural  affections,  opportunities 
for  mental  improvement,  position  in  society,  and  all  these 
in  connection  with  the  highest  manhood  and  most  perfect 
personal  independence.  For  a  parent  to  be  economical, 
to  the  point  of  severe  self-denial,  for  the  education  of  a 
child  ;  for  a  young  man  to  be  thus  economical  for  his  own 
education  ;  for  one  accustomed  or  seeking  to  associate 
with  the  wealthy  and  the  fashionable,  to  conform  to  no 
habit  of  expense  that  would  require  dishonesty  or  mean- 
ness in  any  direction,  implies  high  qualities  ;  and  the 
economy  thus  practiced  is  an  honorable  economy. 

But  besides  these,  there  is  what  may  be  called  a  sub- 
lime economy.  This  is  not  confined  to  money,  or  property, 
but  is  in  imitation  of  the  method  of  God,  and  from  a  per- 
ception of  its  connection  with  beneficence.  It  includes 
the  employment  and  expenditure  of  whatever  would  bear 
on  human  well-being,  and  its  principle  is,  "  That  noihiiig 
be  losty  It  sees  that  the  water  must  be  gathered  in  clouds 
before  it  can  be  poured  out  in  rain  ;  that  the  reservoir 
must  be  filled  before  the  city  can  be  supplied  ;  that  every 
where  God  gathers  by  little  and  little  what  he  dispenses 
with  a  liberal  hand,  and  thus,  instead  of  being  connected 
with  smallness  or  narrowness,  this  economy  becomes  the 
very  spring  and  fountain-head  of  generosity  and  liberality 
and  beneficence.  He  who  adopts  this  principle  looks 
around  him,  and  over  the  earth,  and  sees  hunger  to  be 
fed,  and  nakedness  to  be  clothed,  and  ignorance  to  be 
instructed,  and  vice  to  be  reclaimed,  and  talent  and  worth 


NOTHING  TO   BE    LOST.  1 73 

to  be  encouraged,  and  institutions  to  be  aided  ;  he  hears 
the  cry  of  heathen  nations  calling  for  the  gospel ;  and  now  a 
regard  for  the  least  thing  that  can  work  towards  either,  or 
all  of  these  for  which  God  is  working,  is  dignified  and  con- 
secrated by  the  principle  that  gave  it  birth.  Now,  nothing 
that  can  thus  work  is  small  to  him.  Of  the  cold  water 
that  he  is  bearing  to  the  wounded  and  perishing  on  the 
battle-field  of  life,  and  which  he  knows  to  be  far  short  of 
their  necessities,  he  would  not  lose  a  drop.  Now  he  works 
for  God,  and  with  God  ;  and  he  finds  enlargement  both 
of  mind  and  of  heart  just  in  proportion  as  he  is  able  to 
comprehend  in  his  working  plans,  as  God  does  in  his, 
every  instrumentality  and  means,  however  apparently  in- 
significant and  minute. 

In  what  I  have  just  said,  it  has  been  my  wish  to  place 
before  you  one  great  element  of  all  success,  whether  it  be 
of  that  outward  but  delusive  success,  that  belongs  only  to 
time,  or  of  that  inward  and  true  success,  that  lays  up  its 
treasures  in  heaven.  In  connection  with  both,  the  princi- 
ple applies,  that  nothing  should  be  lost.  This  element 
of  success  is  not  the  primitive,  or  the  greatest.  I  have 
no  wish  to  magnify  it  at  the  expense  of  the  power  of  attain- 
ment and  acquisition,  but  call  your  attention  to  it  as  equally 
indispensable  with  that,  and  because  its  character  is  often 
misapprehended,  and  its  value  not  appreciated. 

Between  the  two  elements  of  success  just  mentioned, 
as  between  the  great  forces  of  nature,  there  is  a  tendency 
to  opposition,  and  you  will  need  to  balance  them  carefully, 
if  you  would  preserve  the  true  course  and  orbit  of  life. 
With  some  the  constitutional  tendency  is  towards  energy, 
attainment,  acquisition ;  and  as  the  consciousness  of 
power  in  this  direction  is  greater,  it  is  natural  there  should 
be  a  certain  profusion  and  recklessness  in  expenditure. 
To  the  young  and  self-confident,  their  resources  of  time 


1/4  NOTHING  TO  BE  LOST. 

of  health,  of  energy,  if  not  of  money,  seem  exhaustless ; 
and  why  should  they  care  for  loss  ?  With  others,  the  ten- 
dency is  towards  caution.  They  gain  by  saving.  They 
never  either  pay,  or  give,  too  much  for  anything.  They 
are  in  danger  of  withholding  more  than  is  meet,  even  when 
it  tendeth  to  poverty.  Of  these  elements,  if  there  must 
be  a  preponderance  of  either,  let  it  be  of  the  first.  But, 
rightly  viewed,  these  are  not  conflicting,  but  complemen- 
tary elements.  If  there  were  no  gathering,  their  could  be 
neither  saving  nor  giving  ;  if  there  were  no  saving,  there 
could  be  no  systematic,  far-sighted,  effective'  use  or  dis- 
tribution. Here,  as  everywhere,  the  example  of  our 
Saviour  is  perfect.  How  grand  the  energy  by  which  he 
controlled  the  elements !  How  adequate,  and  more  than 
adequate,  the  provision  for  all  that  use  required  !  And 
yet  how  perfect  the  economy — an  economy,  you  will  be 
careful  to  observe,  that  in  no  degree  restricted  use,  but 
simply  provided  against  loss.  Here  we  have  the  whole 
principle.  Everything  for  use^  nothing  to  be  lost.  Why 
should  any  thing,  that  can  be  used,  be  lost  ?  How  can 
it  be,  but  from  recklessness,  or  weakness,  or  wicked- 
ness ? 

You,  my  Beloved  Friends,  have  rich  endowments,  a 
rich  inheritance,  a  capital  of  priceless  worth,  no  part  of 
which  ought  to  be  lost.  You  have  youth,  and  health,  and 
education,  and  freedom,  personal,  civil,  and  rehgious. 
You  inherit  the  past,  and  stand  on  the  threshold  of  a 
future  that  must  be  richer  in  thronging  events  and  in 
opportunities  for  good,  than  any  past  has  been.  Your 
fathers  inherited  a  continent  that  required  to  be  subdued. 
You,  one  that  requires  to  be  cultivated  ;  they  inherited 
the  printing  press  worked  by  hand,  and  the  stage  coach, 
and   the   sailing  vessel  ;  you   inherit  the  cylinder  press 


NOTHING  TO   BE   LOST.  1 75 

worked  by  steam,  and  the  railroad  car,  and  the  steamship, 
and  the  electric  telegraph.  It  was  for  them  to  lift  up 
their  eyes  upon  the  varied  forms  of  destitution  and  crime  in 
our  land,  and  upon  the  darkness  and  woes  of  heathendom, 
and  to  form  the  associations,  and  gain  the  knowledge 
necessary  for  effective  working.  It  is  for  you  to  take  these 
instrumentalities  and  work  them.  Work  them  with  accel- 
erated speed,  and  with  mightier  power.  Meliorate  the 
physical  condition  of  man.  Bring  back  a  revolted  world 
to  its  allegiance  to  God.  And  when  you  look  at  the  mag- 
nitude of  this  work,  is  there  anything,  whether  of  time,  or 
health,  or  money,  or  influence,  or  of  capability  in  any 
direction,  which  you  can  afford  to  lose  ?  No.  Oh,  no. 
In  such  a  work  every  resource  is  needed ;  ''  Hold  fast 
what  thou  hast ;  "  for  such  a  work,  *'  Gather  up  the  frag- 
ments, that  nothing  be  lost." 

But  my  friends,  if  it  be  the  will  of  God  that  you  should 
lose  nothing  of  time,  or  health,  or  even  of  money,  how 
much  more  must  it  be  his  will  that  you  should  not  lose 
yourselves.  This  you  can  do.  You  can  lose  yourselves  ; 
and  such  a  loss,  you  will  observe,  implies  not  merely  de- 
privation, but  all  there  is  of  suffering  and  of  penalty  under 
the  moral  laws  of  God.  As  the  loss  of  health  is  sickness, 
and  of  light,  darkness,  so  is  the  loss  of  hope,  despair,  and 
the  loss  of  heaven  is  hell.  You  can  throw  yourselves 
away.  You  can  become  of  no  use  in  this  universe  except 
for  a  warning.  You  can  lose  your  souls.  Oh,  what  a  loss 
is  that !  The  perversion  and  degradation  of  every  high 
and  immortal  power  for  an  eternity !  And  shall  this  be 
true  of  any  one  of  you  ?  Will  you  be  lost  when  One  has 
come  from  heaven,  travelling  in  the  greatness  of  his 
strength,  and  with  garments  dyed  in  blood,  on  purpose  to 
guide  you  home — home  to  a  Father's  house — to  an  eternal 


176  NOTHING   TO   BE   LOST. 

home  ?  Will  you  not  rather,  on  this  day  of  interest,  it  may 
be  of  final  decision,  when  all  the  world,  and  all  choices  are 
open  before  you,  hear  his  voice  saying,  "Follow  me." 
"  For  what  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ? " 


X. 

GOD'S   METHOD   OF    SOCIAL   UNITY. 

To  whom  coming  as  unto  a  living  stone  disallowed  indeed  of  men  but  chosen  of 
God,  and  precious,  ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spiritual  house. 
—I  Peter,  ii.  4,  5. 

IN  building  a  house,  materials  of  great  diversity  are 
brought  into  unity.  They  are  placed  in  such  relations 
as  to  be  mutually  subservient,  and  become  one  thing. 
This  is  what  is  done  in  all  construction.  It  is  what  God 
has  done  in  building  this  material  universe.  The  process 
of  this,  as  conducted  by  him,  is  expressly  compared  to  the 
building  of  a  house  by  man.  "For,"  says  the  Apostle, 
"  every  house  is  builded  by  some  man,  but  he  that  built 
all  things  is  God." 

As  thus  constructed,  the  universe  is  no  mulitudinous 
mass  of  unrelated  units  baffling  all  comprehension.  The 
separate  beings  and  facts  are,  indeed,  without  number,  and 
are  infinitely  diversified  ;  but  they  may  yet  be  partitioned 
off  into  divisions,  assorted  into  groups,  the  ligament  which 
binds  each  of  these  into  unity  may  be  distinctly  traced,  and 
each  group,  thus  assorted  and  bound  together,  becomes  the 
field  of  a  separate  science.  And  not  only  are  the  facts 
within  each  group  related  to  each  other,  but  the  groups 
themselves.  Not,  as  the  ancients  supposed,  are  the 
heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  the  regions  beneath,  consti- 
tuted and  governed  each  on  different  principles.  The 
light  from  the  farthest  star  is  the  same  as  that  which  comes 
from  the  sun,  and  which  is  struck  from  the  flint ;  the  par- 

***  August  3,  1862. 


1/8         god's  method  of  social  unity. 

tide  of  dust  that  floats  in  the  air  is  governed  by  the  same 
laws  as  the  earth  that  floats  in  space  and  is  enveloped  by 
that  air ;  the  spire  of  grass  at  our  feet  requires  not  only 
the  sun  and  the  rain,  but  all  those  laws  of  electricity,  ana 
magnetism,  and  cohesion,  and  affinity,  by  which  the  globe 
itself,  and  the  solar  system,  and  the  far  vaster  stellar  sys- 
tems cohere  and  stand  ap  together.  Not  only,  therefore,  is 
there  a  unity  of  each  science,  but  a  unity  of  the  sciences. 
The  farther  we  investigate  the  more  do  we  find  of  unity  in 
the  works  of  God,  and  nothing  seems  left  to  science  but  to 
accept  that  instinctive  and  universal  conviction  which  has 
recorded  itself  in  language,  and  which  calls  these  works  of 
God,  so  varied  and  so  vast,  a  uni-verse. 

With  this  constitution  of  the  external  universe,  that  of 
the  mind  is  in  harmony.  It  is  a  necessity  for  it  to  seek  to 
reduce  its  knowledge  to  unity.  Before  science  can  begin, 
we  must  observe  separate  facts  ;  but  as  soon  as  these  are 
observed,  there  is  an  effort  to  bring  them  into  system,  that 
is,  into  unity  ;  and  when  this  is  fully  done,  there  is  a  com- 
pleted science.  No  man  can  observe  a  new  and  strange 
fact,  without  seeking  to  bring  it  into  relation  with  facts 
already  known  and  classfied. 

But  it  is  not  solely  as  speculative  that  man  desires,  and 
is  required,  to  reduce  all  things  to  unity.  As  a  practical 
being,  it  is  his  groat  business  to  do  this.  As  the  beings 
and  facts  of  nature  are  given  to  him,  as  speculative,  that 
he  may  find  their  mutual  relations,  and  thus  their  unity, 
so  are  the  substances  of  nature  given  to  him,  as  a  practi- 
cal being,  that  he  may  find  their  capabilities,  and  bring 
them  into  such  relations  of  convergence  and  unity  as  shall 
subserve  his  purposes.  Like  the  facts  and  phenomena, 
these  substances  are  given  separately.  The  air  is  given 
by  itself,  and  the  iron,  and  the  fuel,  and  the  fire,  and  the 
water,  and  all  these  are  to  be  brought  into  such  conver- 


god's  method  of  social  unity.  179 

gence  and  unity  of  action  as  to  cause  the  locomotive  and 
the  steam-ship  to  be,  and  to  speed  them  on  their  won- 
drous way.  In  all  contrivances,  from  the  simple  lever  to 
those  marvelous  combinations  of  machinery  that  seem 
endowed  not  only  with  hands,  but  with  thought,  there  is 
always  to  be  found  a  unity  in  the  subservience  of  every 
part  to  the  purpose  of  the  designer,  and  it  is  this  unity 
which  he  designs,  to  produce.  As  a  creature  made  in 
the  image  of  God,  man  not  only  finds  in  his  works  unity 
with  reference  to  an  end,  but  he  wishes  to  produce  such 
unity. 

But  this  is  not  all.  If  we  pass  from  matter  to  mind 
we  find  another,  a  spiritual  universe,  to  which  the  first  is 
subservient.  We  can  scarcely  avoid  the  conclusion, 
favored  as  it  is  by  the  Scriptures  and  by  all  analogy,  that 
there  is  a  spiritual  universe  corresponding  in  vastness  and 
variety  to  the  material  one  ;  and  if  so,  the  great  object  of 
God,  in  the  whole,  must  be  such  an  arrangement  and 
government  of  this  as  shall  secure  for  it  the  highest  social 
and  spiritual  unity.  This,  too,  is  favored  by  the  Scriptures. 
Christians  are  to  be  built  up  a  spiritual  house.  Christ 
prayed  that  they  might  all  be  one  ;  and  the  Apostle, 
glancing,  it  would  seem,  at  that  wider  range  of  which  we 
have  spoken,  says :  "  That  in  the  dispensation  of  the  full- 
ness of  times  he  might  gather  together  in  one  all  things  in 
Christ,  both  which  are  in  heaven,  and  which  are  on  earth  ; 
even  in  him." 

And  here,  also,  in  this  spiritual  universe,  man  is  not 
merely  to  find  a  unity  produced  by  God  ;  he  is  also,  and 
tn  this  chiefly,  to  seek  to  produce  unity. 

In  doing  this,  the  first  sphere  of  action  for  every  man 
is  his  own  spirit.  Blessed  is  he  who  can  bring  into  that, 
that  unity  which  is  at  once  peace  and  power.  This  is  the 
first  condition  of  all  true  rest  and  of  all  healthful  activity. 


l8o  GOD'S   METHOD   OF  SOCIAL   UNITY. 

The  more  complex  man  is ;  the  more  incompatible  are  his 
desires  ;  the  more  deeply  opposed  are  the  flesh  and  the 
spirit ;  the  more  needful,  and  the  more  beautiful  is  that 
unity  which  belongs  to  the  original  design  of  God,  and 
which  is  brought  in  by  one  overmastering  purpose  subor- 
dinating all  things  to  itself.  In  this  is  singleness  of  eye  ; 
in  this  consistency,  efficiency,  a  ground  for  self-respect,  and 
for  the  respect  of  others  : 

But  this  unity  of  the  individual  spirit  is  not  only  a  con- 
dition of  individual  peace  and  joy,  but  also  of  those  bonds 
of  peace  by  which  individuals  are  united  to  each  other. 
This  brings  us  to  a  wider  and  more  complex  field,  to  that 
social  and  spiritual  unity  which  we  now  propose  to  con- 
sider. 

In  this  field  the  first  and  most  perfect  unity  is  to  be 
found  in  the  marriage  union.  In  marriage,  according  to 
its  original  idea,  there  is  the  most  perfect  social  unity  known 
on  earth.  They  twain  become  one  flesh.  It  is  based  on 
a  diversity  in  the  Vv^hole  being, — a  diversity,  not  of  opposi- 
tion, but  of  correspondence,  by  which  each  supplements 
the  other,  and  in  which  there  is  always  the  basis  for  the 
truest  and  deepest  unity. 

It  is  from  such  a  unity  that  society  springs,  branching 
out  into  families,  communities,  and  nations.  Here,  again, 
unity  is  needed  not  only  within  each  family,  community 
and  nation,  but  also  between  families,  communities,  and 
nations.  This  is  possible.  Despite  the  isolations,  the 
alienations,  the  enmities  there  are,  it  is  the  law,  it  is  the 
only  condition  of  social  good,  and  it  is  the  production  of 
this  that  is  the  end  of  all  constitutions,  and  legislation,  and 
government.  A  solution  of  all  social  problems,  those  which 
have  taxed  the  powers  of  man  from  the  beginning,  can  end 
in  nothing  better  than  this.  That  the  race  of  man  should 
recognize  its  own  unity  in  a  spirit  of  brotherhood,  overlook- 


god's  method  of  social  unity.  i8i 

ing  no  one  having  the  attributes  of  man,  and  thus,  under 
the  government  of  God,  become  fitted  for  a  unity  with  other 
races,  trained  in  other  planets,  in  other  systems,  related  to 
us  by  the  correspondence  of  diversity,  they  fitted  to  supple- 
ment us,  as  we  them,  gives  us  the  grandest  conception  of 
a  social  system  which  it  is  possible  for  us  to  form.  It  is 
towards  this  that  all  true  reformers  look ;  as  they  approx- 
imate this,  their  end  is  attained  ;  as  they  find  the  principle 
of  this,  they  find  the  principle  of  all  real  reforms. 

It  is  of  this  complex  social  unity  that  the  text  speaks 
under  the  figure  of  a  house  built  up  of  separate  stones. 
*'Ye  are  byilt  up  a  spiritual  house."  And  this  unity  men 
have  sought,  and  still  seek  to  secure,  chiefly  in  two  ways. 

The  first  is  by  the  balance  of  mutual  interests  and 
selfishnesses. 

Interest  and  selfishness  are  not,  like  malignity,  neces- 
sarily repellent.  So  far  as  two  selfish  persons  are  either 
necessary  to  each  other  from  the  conditions  of  their  being, 
or  can  make  use  of  each  other,  they  can  go  on  together ; 
and,  by  a  skillful  adjustment  of  checks  and  balances,  much 
may  be  done  to  make  it  for  the  immediate  interest  of  all 
to  go  on  thus.  Selfishness  may  do  good  to  others,  that 
others  may  do  good  to  it  ;  it  may  lend  to  others,  "hoping 
to  receive  as  much  again."  It  may,  for  its  own  sake,  do 
much  for  the  upbuilding  and  perfection  of  society;  and 
with  this  as  its  controlling  principle,  together  with  the  gre- 
gariousness  common  to  man  with  the  animals,  society  may 
exist  and  have  a  degree  of  unity.  But  with  a  governing 
selfishness,  held  in  check,  and  known  to  be,  solely  by  ex- 
pediency, there  must  be  constant  distrust.  Thus  governed 
men  will  overstep  the  limits  of  right  when  they  dare,  and 
the  individuals  of  society  will  resolve  themselves  into  an 
armed  neutralit}',  with  a  constant  outlook  for  opportunities 
of  safe   aggression.     Outward   peace  there  may  be,  but  it 


1 82         god's  method  of  social  unity. 

will  be  from  mutual  dread,  as  when  two  prize-fighters  sur- 
vey each  other,  and  each  perfers  to  decline  the  contest.  It 
will  be  on  the  principle  that  a  certain  gun,  supposed  to  be 
very  destructive,  was  named  "  the  peacemaker."  There 
will  be  sought  a  balance  of  power  like  that  so  long  made 
the  object  of  European  politicians.  Such  a  political  bal- 
ance required  for  its  maintenance  standing  armies,  and 
navies,  and  fortifications,  and  constant  watchfulness.  And 
such  a  balance  in  society  will  require  the  division  of  powers, 
and  a  police,  and  courts,  and  prisons,  and  written  contracts, 
and  securities.  Such  a  unity  maybe  better  than  none.  It 
is  far  better ;  but  there  must  be  something  better  than 
this. 

A  second  mode  of  producing  unity  among  men  is  by 
power,  or  pressure  from  without. 

This  involves  the  first,  to  some  extent,  and  is  superin- 
duced upon  it.  It  is  the  method  adopted  by  all  despot- 
isms, whether  of  one  man,  of  a  few,  or  of  many.  The  great 
object  of  ambition  has  been  to  exercise  the  power  of  a  des- 
potic will  over  masses  of  men  organized  as  armies,  and 
through  these  to  hold  in  subjection,  as  one  empire,  vast 
regions,  peopled,  it  may  be,  by  nations  the  most  discord- 
ant. Such  was  the  empire  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  who  sent 
forth  his  decree  "to  every  people,  and  nation,  and  lan- 
guage." Such  was  the  Persian  empire  under  Ahasuerus, 
whose  letters  were  sent  "  to  the  rulers  of  the  provinces 
which  were  from  India  to  Ethiopia,  a  hundred  and  twenty 
and  seven  provinces,  unto  every  province  according  to  the 
writing  thereof,  and  unto  every  people  after  their  language." 
Such  was  the  empire  of  Alexander,  that  fell  in  pieces  by  its 
own  weight,  as  soon  as  his  strong  grasp  upon  it  was  relaxed. 
Such,  emphatically,  was  the  Roman  empire.  Extending 
from  the  African  deserts  to  Britain,  and  from  India  to  the 
pillars  of  Hercules,  it  held  in  a  forced  unity  nations  utterly 


god's  method  of  social  unity.  183 

diverse  in  language,  and  habits,  and  interests.  It  was  a 
mere  aggregation,  a  conglomerate,  whose  parts  were  held 
in  position  by  Roman  legions.  Such,  indeed,  were  the 
republics  of  antiquity,  when  they  became  extensive.  Of 
the  rights  of  man  as  such,  they  knew  nothing  :  they  did 
not  extend  citizenship  with  their  conquests,  but  held  their 
provinces  in  subjection,  and  so  preserved  unity  by  power. 
Such  has  been,  and  still  is,  to  a  great  extent,  the  condition 
of  Europe  :  much  more  of  countries  less  enlightened. 
Different  nationalities  are  forced  together.  Every  where 
there  is  the  pressure  of  power  as  an  external  force.  The 
free  play  of  affinities,  whether  laterally,  or  vertically,  is 
checked  ;  and  the  spirit,  if  not  the  laws  of  caste,  is  rigidly 
maintained.  Hence  the  unity,  such  as  there  is,  being  en- 
forced, is  unquiet ;  not  peaceful,  spontaneous  and  fruitful. 
In  opposition  to  these  methods,  now  tried  so  long  that 
the  world  is  weary,  is  that  adopted  by  God,  and  beautifully 
indicated  in  the  text,  The  figure  in  this  passage  is  remark- 
able, as  bringing  into  coalesence  objects  and  qualities 
seemingly  the  most  incompatible.  A  stone  is  passive. 
You  may  lift  it,  toss  it,  hurl  it,  smite  it,  lay  it  in  a  wall, 
and  it  will  resist  only  in  virtue  of  its  inertia  and  cohesion 
A  stone  is  dead — so  dead,  that  when  we  would  speak  of 
the  perfection  and  intensity  of  death  in  other  things,  we 
say  of  them  that  they  are  stone-dead.  A  stone  is  solid,, 
permanent,  a  fit  material  to  enter  into  structures  that  are 
to  endure  for  ages.  How  opposite  is  all  this  to  that  vital- 
ity, and  sensibility,  and  self-assertion,  and  transient  char- 
acter that  belong  to  all  organic  and  living  things  !  How 
opposite,  especially,  is  it  to  spirituality.  Nothing  could 
be  more  opposite,  and  yet  it  is  precisely  in  the  blending  of 
these  opposites  that  the  power  and  beauty  of  the  figure  are 
found.  That  the  building  should  be  of  stone,  was  required 
to  indicate  its  perpetuity;  for  its  turrets  are  to  gleam  for- 


l84  GOD  S   METHOD    OF   SOCIAL   UNITY. 

ever  in  the  light  of  eternity.  That  the  stones  should  be 
living,  was  required  to  indicate  their  union,  each  in  its 
place  ;  not  by  mechanical  means,  or  outward  pressure,  but 
by  vital  affinity. 

Here  it  is  that  we  reach  the  peculiarity  of  this  struct- 
ure. It  is  that  the  materials  are  living,  and  are  united  by 
a  vital  affinity.  If  now  we  suppose  this  affinity  to  spring 
from  that  which  is  deepest  and  most  essential  in  the  ma- 
terials, we  shall  have  the  whole  method  of  God  in  produc- 
ing social  unity  :  we  shall  have  that  which  we  must  adopt 
in  seeking  to  produce  it,  if  we  are  ever  to  succeed. 

Of  this  method  of  union  by  vital  affinity,  there  are  two 
conditions.  The  first  and  indispensable  one  is,  that  the 
materials  should  be  vitalized,  or  be  alive.  The  second  is, 
that  they  should  be  free  to  move  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  of  vitality. 

What  it  is  to  be  vitalized  in  mere  matter,  and  how  this 
is  done,  we  know.  It  is  to  have  life  communicated  to  that 
which  was  dead  ;  and  this  is  done  by  bringing  the  mater- 
ials, not  in  masses,  but  particle  by  particle,  into  contact 
with  that  which  already  has  vitality.  It  is  done  as  by  a 
leavening  power,  a  kind  of  sacred  contagion  ;  and  when  it 
is  done,  the  materials  are  ready  to  be  marshaled  into  their 
places,  and  to  perform  their  functions  under  the  vital  laws. 

So  far  the  process  is  beautiful  and  typical,  but  the  mar- 
shaling is  perhaps  more  so.  Here  the  second  condition, 
that  of  freedom,  comes  in.  In  matter,  fluidity  is  freedom. 
It  is  the  freedom  of  the  individual  particle  to  move  in  any 
direction  ;  and  strange  as  it  may  seem,  that  a  fluid  should 
be  alive,  yet  it  is,  and  the  Scripture  doctrine,  that  the 
blood  "is  the  life  thereof,"  is  a  philosophical  necessity. 
Having  then  materials  for  the  upbuilding  of  every  part  of 
the  body,  vitalized,  and  free,  as  held  in  solution,  what  is  to 
be  done?     There  are  to  be  formed  bone,  muscle,  tendon, 


god's  method  of  social  unity.  185 

brain,  nerves,  skin,  hair,  nails,  the  transparent  humors  of  the 
eye,  and  its  dark  pigment.  The  materials  are  undistinguish- 
able,  and  mixed  in  utter  confusion.  But  now  the  affinity 
shows  itself,  and  the  miracle  of  bringing  order  out  of  chaos, 
as  seen  in  the  first  creation,  is  repeated.  Each  particle  goes 
to  its  own  place,  stands  in  its  own  lot,  performs  just  the 
office  it  is  fitted  to  perform  ;  and  thus,  to  a  body  constantly 
changing  in  its  matter,  there  is  given  permanence,  and 
strength  and  beauty. 

Of  the  process  now  mentioned  all  materials  are  not  ca- 
pable, but  only  food.  It  is  the  capability  of  this  that  makes 
them  food.  But  whether  capable  of  it  or  not,  any  substance 
not  actually  vitalized,  or  in  a  position  to  be  so,  is  a  foreign 
substance.  As  such  it  is  either  an  encumbrance  or  an 
irritant,  and  is  expelled  by  the  vital  force.  This  power  of 
rejection  and  expulsion  is  no  less  essential  than  that  of 
assimilation. 

All  this  perfectly  represents  what  occurs,  or  should 
occur,  in  the  higher  social  region.  Every  particle  thus 
vitalized  becomes  a  living  stone  to  build  up  a  living  house, 
and  in  thus  helping  to  build  the  whole,  its  own  place  is 
found,  and  its  appetency  satisfied. 

In  passing  to  the  higher  spiritual  region,  if  we  find 
differences,  it  is  only  those  required  by  the  nature  of  the 
subject.  We  have  here  the  same  indispensible  conditions 
of  vitality  and  freedom,  and  the  same  expulsive  power. 
But  life  here,  in  accordance  with  the  usage  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  with  all  usage,  is  something  more  than  life,  and 
death  is  not  merely  its  absence.  Life  here  is  consciousness 
sensibility,  sympathy,  affection.  It  is  consent  and  har- 
mony, and  the  more  intense  the  life  in  one  direction,  the 
more  perfect  the  death  in  another.  To  be  alive  to  God  is 
to  have  every  faculty  active  and  quick  in  apprehending  his 
perfections,  and  in  doing  his  will ;  and  one  wholly  in  this 


1 86  GOr/S   METHOD   OF   SOCIAL   UNITY. 

state  would  be  dead  to  sin.  Its  allurements  would  awaken 
no  more  response  than  an  appeal  to  the  senses  of  the  dead. 
They  would  be  viands  set  at  the  mouth  of  a  tomb.  On  the 
other  hand,  no  life  is  more  intense  than  that  of  him  who 
is  "  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."  He  is  so  engrossed  in 
his  own  selfish  plans  that  no  voice  of  the  word,  or  prov- 
idence, or  Spirit  of  God,  makes  any  impression  upon  him. 
Call  as  you  may,  there  is  no  response.  There  is  no  voice, 
nor  any  that  answers  or  regards.  He  is  dead.  In  the 
same  way  men  may  be  alive  to  the  beauties  of  nature,  or 
of  art,  to  the  behests  of  duty,  the  calls  of  compassion,  the 
voice  of  their  country  ;  and  they  may  be  dead  to  all  these. 
They  may  be  wholly  engrossed  in  business,  or  in  pleasure. 
Men  may  be  so  alive  to  the  wages  of  unrighteousness  as  to 
become,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  trees  twice  dead,  plucked 
up  by  the  roots." 

We  say,  then,  that  for  a  social  structure,  he  is  a  living 
stone  who  is  capable  of  being  so  inwrought  into  it  as  to 
add,  and  only  add,  to  its  strength  and  symmetry.  This 
will  imply  that  he  be  permeated  by  those  ideas  which  are 
the  life  of  the  system,  that  he  be  plastic  to  its  forces,  and 
responsive  to  its  instinctive  wants.  He  must  be  an  agent, 
and  not  an  instrument.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  vital 
methods,  as  opposed  to  mechanical,  that  the  movement  is 
from  within.  The  moment  the  interior  appetency,  and  im- 
pulse, and  choice,  cease  to  be  respected,  there  is  social 
death  ;  the  idea  of  mutual  subserviency  through  vital  action, 
which  is  God's  idea,  is  lost,  and  society,  instead  of  moving 
like  the  heavens,  becomes  a  crazy  mechanism,  whirling  and 
crashing  on  with  the  blindness  and  unsteadiness  of  human 
passion  and  power. 

Such  is  the  idea  of  vitality  in  a  social  system.  It  im- 
plies a  sympathy,  a  rational  consent  and  harmony  of  the 
individual  with  the  movements  and  ends  of  the  system, 


god's  method  of  social  unity.         187 

that  will  lead  him  to  seek  and  to  keep,  not  office,  but  just 
that  place  for  which  he  is  best  fitted. 

The  idea  of  freedom,  figurative  in  matter,  is  literal  here. 
It  implies  both  the  immediate  absence  of  arbitrary  power, 
and  security  against  it.  The  lion  must  not  only  be  sated 
for  the  moment,  or  accidentally  sluggish,  he  must  be  caged. 
There  must  be  no  intervention  of  mere  will,  seeking,  for  a 
side  and  selfish  purpose,  to  wield  the  masses  as  instruments 
or  to  prevent  any  living  stone  from  finding  its  true  place. 
The  idea  of  freedom  also  implies  the  absence  of  any  hor- 
izontal and  petrified  strata  in  society,  as  caste,  or  fixed 
classes,  which  would  prevent  a  free  movement,  upwards  or 
downwards,  horizontally  or  obliquely.  Such  strata  may 
exist  without  arbitrary  power  ;  it  may  exist  without  them, 
but  they  naturally  go  together  and  mutually  aid  each  other. 
Established  orders  are  a  frame-work  to  support  the  throne, 
and  the  throne  concentrates  power  to  guard  these  orders 
from  the  encroachments  of  each  other,  and  of  the  people. 

Of  such  a  combination  of  concentrated  power  and  es- 
tablished orders,  great  public  works,  and  high  civilization 
and  refinement  in  the  favored  classes,  are  the  natural  re- 
sult, while  the  lower  classes  are  degraded.  In  such  a  form 
of  society  there  may  be  much  of  beauty,  and  power,  and 
beneficence.  Once  originated,  it  readily  perpetuates  it- 
self, and  becomes  venerable.  From  this,  with  the  vast 
wealth  accumulated,  public  and  private,  though  in  few 
hands,  and  from  the  consequent  magnificence,  it  appeals 
strongly  to  the  imagination  and  tends  to  control  the  asso- 
ciations. Being  born  into  it,  children  are  overshadowed 
by  it,  and  their  associations  are  conformed  to  its  order  as 
they  are  to  that  of  nature.  Both  seem  to  come  from  a 
power  above  them,  and  to  belong  almost  equally  to  an  or- 
der of  things  over  which  they  have  no  control.  Institutions, 
just  those  established,  with  their  settled  order,  are  every- 


1 88         god's  method  of  social  unity. 

thing  ;  the  individual  is  nothing.  There  is  no  longer  room 
for  an  appeal  to  original  rights  and  fitnesses.  The  sphere 
of  choice  and  of  action  provided  by  God,  and  needed  for 
the  best  development  of  the  life  of  all,  becomes  limited. 
There  is  no  fiuidity,  and  for  a  man  to  pass  up  through  the 
orders  of  society  by  merit,  is  a  marvel.  If  he  choose  to 
fall  in  with  the  prescribed  course,  well ;  but  if  Bonaparte 
is  to  rise  from  the  lower  strata  of  society  to  its  top,  it  can 
be  only  as  the  metallic  vein  is  shot  up  through  the  earthy 
strata  by  an  underlying  force  that  would  convulse  a  con- 
tinent. 

Of  the  two  great  elements  of  social  order  now  spoken 
of,  vitality  and  freedom,  freedom  has  been  most  prominent 
in  the  thoughts  and  in  the  speech  of  men.  Freedom  has 
been  the  battle-cry  of  the  race.  For  this  heroes  have  fought. 
Men  seek  scope,  that  is  freedom,  for  the  action  of  vitality, 
but  do  not  so  readily  feel  the  deficiency  of  that  or  seek  its 
increase.  This  is  natural,  because  the  absence  of  freedom 
is  a  restraint  that  is  instantly  felt,  and  naturally  resisted  ; 
but  the  absence  of  vitality  is  insensibility,  and  the  less  life 
a  man  has,  of  any  kind,  physical,  intellectual,  spiritual,  the 
less  inclined  will  he  be  to  struggle  for  more. 

But  while  freedom  is  thus  more  prominent  than  vitality, 
it  is  not  at  all  in  the  same  rank.  All  good  is  from  vitality. 
Freedom  is  only  the  condition  of  its  best  exercise.  For  a 
good  man,  freedom  is  a  good  ;  for  a  bad  man,  it  is  an  evil. 
Without  vitality  in  the  sense  of  the  text,  freedom  becomes 
anarchy.  With  it,  pervading  the  whole  social  system, 
there  will  be  essential  freedom,  whatever  the  outward 
form  of  society  may  be.  If  every  stone  in  the  house  be 
living,  there  will  be  nothing  to  originate  mechanical 
methods  and  obstructions;  vital  laws  will  rule,  and  the 
rule  of  these  is  freedom. 

All  that  has  now  been  said  will  apply  to  social  unity 


GOD  S    METHOD   OF   SOCIAL   UNITY.  1 89 

of  any  kind  ;  but  that  here  spoken  of  is  spiritual.  '*  Ye 
are  built  up  a  spiritual  house."  Let  there  be  vitality  and 
freedom,  and  there  may  be  unity  after  God's  method  ;  but 
its  strength  and  value  will  be  as  the  life  from  which  it 
springs.  Spiritual  unity  must  be  from  spiritual  life,  and 
in  these  we  find  the  sphere  and  method  of  God  in  his 
grandest  work. 

Of  spiritual  unity  the  peculiarities  are  two.  The  first 
is,  that  it  springs  from  that  life  which  is  deepest. 

Surely,  if  man  is  made  in  the  image  of  God,  that  by 
which  he  is  thus  made  must  be  that  which  makes  him  man, 
and  so  is  his  very  being.  If  so,  his  natural  affinities — 
using  the  word  natural  in  its  highest  sense — will  be  for 
God  and  those  who  are  like  him.  If  so,  as  union  with 
God  and  those  who  are  like  him  is  essential  to  this  life,  it 
must  expel  every  interest,  or  life,  or  love,  incompatible 
with  it.  No  love  of  father  or  mother  may  compete  with  it. 
It  will  move  on  as  the  river  towards  the  ocean.  Not  to 
do  this,  would  be  to  deny  its  own  nature. 

The  second  peculiarity  of  spiritual  life,  at  least  in 
man,  is,  that  Christ  is,  for  him,  both  the  source  of  vitality 
and  the  centre  of  unity. 

Without  Christ,  men  are  destitute  of  spiritual  life. 
They  are  "  without  God,  and  without  hope."  This  is  the 
cardinal  fact  in  the  moral  history  of  the  world.  The 
recognition  or  non-recognition  of  this,  will  determine  the 
character  of  all  speculative  theologies,  and  also  the  char- 
acter and  results  of  all  efforts  for  the  good  of  man.  This 
fact  the  world  do  not  admit ;  and  hence  they  disallow 
Christ,  both  as  a  source  of  life  and  as  the  centre  of  unity. 
He  is  "  disallowed  indeed  of  men,  but  chosen  of  God  and 
precious."  It  is  on  this  that  the  whole  method  of  God  in 
the  restoration  of  man  is  based,  and  it  is  for  the  recogni- 
ti:n  of  this  by  men,  and  their  adoption  of  God's  method 


190         god's  method  of  social  unity. 

of  vitality  and  unity,  that  the  tardy  and  laboring  and  dis- 
tracted times  wait.  No  partial  reform  will  do  ;  no  "com- 
ing man."  Every  where  men  are  divergent,  repellent. 
The  bond  of  a  common  humanity  has  been  found  to  be 
but  a  bond  of  tow  to  bind  the  Samson  of  human  selfish- 
ness and  passion.  There  must  be  a  divine  life,  a  divine 
centre,  a  more  than  human  bond.  This  life  is  in  Christ. 
He  is  "  the  life."  This  bond  is  from  him.  In  him  are 
condensed  all  human  relationships,  as  of  *'  brother  and 
sister  and  mother  ;  "  and  to  these — higher  and  holier — 
that  of  Saviour  is  added.  In  him,  as  the  second  Adam  ; 
in  his  matchless  character,  human,  yet  divine ;  in  his 
all-embracing  and  self-sacrificing  love ;  in  him  as  the 
champion  of  humanity  in  its  weakness  and  guilt,  able  and 
willing  to  bring  succor  in  the  hour  of  its  direst  need,  and 
to  raise  it  up  from  the  darkness  and  the  dust  of  death, 
there  is  every  requisite  for  a  centre  of  unity  for  the  race, 
so  that  "  all  things  which  are  on  earth,"  as  well  as  "  those 
which  are  in  heaven,  may  be  gathered  together  in  one, 
even  in  him."  In  this,  in  this  only,  is  there  an  object 
worthy  of  God.  He  has  created  worlds,  and  families  of 
worlds,  of  mere  matter,  and  given  them  a  unity  of  unspeak- 
able beauty  and  grandeur  ;  but  without  sensation  or  recog- 
nition, without  enjoyment  or  praise,  what  would  they  be 
worth  ?  Nothing.  No,  the  only  work  worthy  of  God  is 
one  crowned  by  creatures  made  in  his  image,  with  their 
vitality  from  him,  and  himself  the  centre  of  their  unity- - 
unity  in  love,  fitly  represented  by  the  marriage  union. 
This  work,  we  believe,  will  correspond  in  its  vastness  to 
that  of  the  stellar  hosts,  and  as  far  transcend  them  in 
glory  as  mind  transcends  the  inanimate  clod.  It  will 
embrace  all  orders  of  rational  intelligences,  in  all  worlds  ; 
sin  and  its  consequences  will  be  eliminated,  and  it  shall 
stand  in  its  glorious  order  forever.     The  promised  new 


god's  method  of  social  unity.         191 

heavens  and  earth  do  not  so  much  respect  any  new  com- 
binations and  unity  of  matter,  as  of  conscious  agents;  and 
they  will  be  such  that  all  that  has  gone  before  in  the  works 
of  God  will  be  as  nothing.  "  For  behold,"  says  God,  "  I 
create  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth  ;  and  the  former  shall 
not  be  remembered,  nor  come  into  mind.  But  be  ye  glad 
and  rejoice  forever  in  that  which  I  create  ;  for,  behold,  I 
create  Jerusalem  a  rejoicing  and  her  people  a  joy." 

It  is  of  such  a  social  system,  my  friends  that  you  are 
to  fit  yourselves  to  form  a  part ;  it  is  into  such  a  system 
that  you  are  to  seek  to  bring  others.  This  will  compre- 
hend your  whole  duty.  This  you  will  best  do,  not  by 
ignoring  or  disregarding  those  lower  social  systems  on 
earth  which  God  has  ordained,  but  by  filling  your  places 
as  living  stones  in  them  all.  That  you  may  do  this  rightly 
I  have  wished,  to  furnish  you  both  with  a  test  of  systems, 
and  with  guiding  principles. 

First,  then,  it  will  follow,  from  what  has  been  said,  that 
if  you  are  either  to  fit  yourselves  for  such  a  system,  or  to 
aid  in  fitting  others,  an  indispensable  condition  must  be, 
that  you  should  be  alive. 

What  can  a  dead  man  do  i-'  In  the  first  place,  death 
can  enjoy  nothing.  And  then,  what  place  has  a  cold,  un- 
conscious, apathetic  stone,  where  everything  is  vital,  and 
responsive,  and  eager  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  whole  ?  It 
is  an  obstruction  not  merely,  but  an  offense,  and  cannot 
be  permanently  suffered.  So  is  it  in  the  family;  so  in 
the  college — what  is  the  use  of  a  dead  student?  so  in 
the  state  ;  so  in  the  church  ;  so,  emphatically,  must  it  be 
in  heaven.  With  little  vitality,  such  offenses  may  be  en- 
dured, but  the  more  intense  the  life,  the  more  does  it  array 
itself  against  all  death,  and  seek  to  free  itself  from  its  con- 
tact. The  very  pavement  of  heaven  would  rise  against  the 
5* 


192  GOD  S   METHOD   OF   SOCIAL   UNITY. 

foot  of  the  wicked  ;  it  would  cast  them  out.  "  Without 
are  dogs."  And  what,  again,  can  a  dead  man  do  in  com- 
municating life  ?  Life  comes  from  life.  God  is  its  author; 
but,  having  originated  it,  it  spreads  from  centres  according 
to  laws,  and  those  centres  must  be  alive.  In  the  spiritual, 
as  in  the  natural  world,  there  is  no  spontaneous  generation. 
Would  you  communicate  knowledge?  You  must  have  it. 
So  of  life.  Christianity  does  not  spring  up  of  itself;  it 
must  be  borne  by  the  living  preacher.  Yes,  by  a  /ivmg 
preacher,  and  not  by  one  that  is  dead. 

If,  then,  you  would  enjoy  any  thing ;  if  you  would  not 
be  an  offense ;  if  you  would  communicate  any  thing,  you 
must  be  alive. 

You  will  also  find,  in  what  has  been  said,  a  test  of  all 
social  organizations.  Of  these,  the  present  emergency  re- 
quires that  I  should  refer  especially  to  those  that  are  na- 
tional, and  to  your  duty  to  the  government  in  which  you 
are  to  have  a  part. 

Organizations  express  life,  and  react  upon  it.  Of  these, 
some  are  better  than  others.  It  is  not  true,  that,  ''  that  is 
the  best  government  which  is  best  administered."  That 
government  is  the  best,  and  is  likely  to  be  best  adminis- 
tered, which  is  constructed  most  nearly  after  God's  method. 
That,  accordingly,  is  the  best  government  which  combines 
most  perfectly  vitality,  freedom,  and  unity.  We  are  wont 
to  think  of  the  excellence  of  our  government  as  from  free- 
dom. Not  so,  except  as  there  is  vitality  back  of  the  free- 
dom, and  as  it  leads  to  unity.  Its  excellence  is  that  its 
methodic  vital,  and  not  mechanical.  It  is  self-government, 
working  out,  as  by  an  instinct  of  life,  the  common  good. 
It  is  a  common-wealth.  It  casts  the  character  in  the 
mould  of  freedom,  and  becomes  a  great  educating  and  for 
motive  power.  It  makes  a  radical  difference  whether  the 
people  have  a  government  distinct  from  themselves  and 


god's  method  of  social  unity.  193 

exercised  over  them,  or  whether  they  are  the  government, 
expressing  their  will  through  constitutional  forms.  In  the 
one  case  the  people  will  be  recipients  and  instruments,  re- 
ceiving a  provision  made  for  them  by  those  whose  business 
it  is  to  take  care  of  them  ;  in  the  other  they  will  be  vital, 
and  will  perform  a  high  function  of  vitality  by  which,  if  they 
perform  it  well,  they  must  grow  into  a  larger  manhood.  If 
they  perforin  it  well!  Just  here  it  is  that  the  voice  of  patri- 
otism, of  oppressed  humanity  every  where,  that  the  voice 
of  God  reaches  every  young  man,  and  especially  every  edu- 
cated young  man.  You  inherit  a  government  more  con- 
formed to  the  methods  of  God  than  any  other.  There  is 
in  it  more  of  freedom  in  all  directions ;  we  trust  there  is 
also  more  of  vitality,  of  unity,  and  of  power  to  expel  what 
would  be  destructive  of  its  life.  But  this  is  yet  to  be  tested, 
and  the  result  will  depend  on  the  present  generation  of 
young  men.  There  is  no  strength  like  that  of  unity  from 
vitality  and  freedom.  There  is  no  beauty  like  it.  Go  forth, 
then,  and  do  what  you  can  in  giving  to  the  nation  this 
strength  and  beauty.  Be  true  to  God's  methods  ;  be  true 
to  the  interests  of  freedom,  and  to  the  rights  of  man. 

Again,  as  we  have  seen  that  vitality  is  the  chief  thing 
in  order  to  social  unity,  it  will  follow  that  your  highest  aim 
will  be  to  communicate  that. 

This  was  done  by  our  Saviour.  He  had  life  in  himself 
He  was  the  Life,  and  his  great  object  was  to  give  life  to 
the  world.  For  this  he  gave  himself  This  principle  was 
original  with  him.  It  is  distinctive.  It  is  this,  and  this 
only,  that  has  made  his  religion  a  power  in  the  world, 
working  like  leaven.  Overlooked  by  the  world,  "  disal- 
lowed of  men,"  it  is  yet  demonstrably  the  only  true  prin- 
ciple of  reform.  If  a  living  house  is  to  be  built,  there 
must  be  living  stones.  The  difficulty  hi  social  structures  is 
in  the  material.     If  this  nation  is  to   fail,   it  will   be  from 


194 

that.  Ambition,  selfishness,  human  wisdom,  take  such 
materials  as  they  find  and  use  them  as  they  may,  often 
skillfully,  for  their  own  ends.  Christ  says,  begin  with  the 
materials.  "  Make  the  tree  goody  Go  to  the  ignorant,  the 
vicious,  the  proud,  the  sensual,  the  selfish  in  every  form," 
and  teach  them  that  wisdom  of  God  which  consists,  not  in 
getting  any  thing,  or  in  achieving  any  thing,  but  in  beco??iing 
as  little  children  before  him.  Thus  shall  they  enter,  by 
love,  into  his  kingdom,  and  into  the  heirship  of  all  things. 
This  is  totally  different  from  any  achievement  for  admira- 
tion, or  from  any  exercise  of  power,  as  by  the  great  ones 
of  the  earth.  It  is  wholly  alien  from  the  spirit  of  the 
world,  and  yet  from  this  only  can  there  be  renovation  in 
society,  or  fruit  unto  life  everlasting.  This  will  preclude 
all  monkish  seclusion,  it  will  bring  you  heart  to  heart  with 
your  fellow-men,  no  matter  who,  so  they  be  men,  and  will 
call  for  all  you  may  have  of  life  to  communicate.  Your 
usefulness  will  not  be  as  your  talents,  but  as  you  may  com- 
municate vitality.  I  rejoice,  my  friends,  in  the  confidence 
that  you  will  adopt  this  principle.  Apply  it  in  your  lives, 
unmoved  by  the  sneers  of  skepticism,  or  by  the  success  and 
self-complacency  of  the  worldly  wise. 

Once  more,  in  view  of  the  discordance  and  divisions  in 
the  world,  it  will  readily  occur  to  you,  from  what  has  been 
said,  how  important  it  is  that  your  centres  of  unity  should 
be  rightly  chosen. 

Both  your  influence  and  peace  will  depend  much  upon 
this.  Here  your  wisdom  v/ill  be  to  choose  only  those 
which  God  has  established.  God  has  established  the 
family,  and  not  communism  ;  the  state,  and  not  party  ; 
the  church,  the  one  living,  spiritual  church,  and  not  sects  ; 
Christ  and  not  popes,  or  theological  doctors  and  teachers. 
The  true  ground  of  union  is  vitality  with  reference  to  a 
common    centre ;  and   distant  as   it  may  seem,  we    hope 


god's  method  of  social  unity.         195 

and  believe  the  time  will  come  when  men  will  every  where 
swing  away  from  centres  false,  artificial,  divisive,  and 
revolve  only,  with  mutual  attraction,  around  those  that  are 
God-appointed. 

Finally,  while  I  exhort  you  to  enter,  as  a  vital  part, 
into  every  social  unity  instituted  by  God,  the  great  ques- 
tion with  you,  as  with  us  all,  is  whether  you  have  come  lo 
Christ.  "  Unto  whom  coming."  Have  you  come  to  him 
as  unto  a  living  stone,  and  so  been  made  yourselves  living 
as  to  be  fit  to  become  a  part  of  that  spiritual  house  which 
God  is  building  ?  Christ  is  still  "  disallowed  of  men." 
The  builders  refused  him.  So  do  not  you.  You  are 
building  for  eternity  ;  look  well  to  your  foundation.  Christ 
is  "chosen  of  God,"  and  other  foundation  can  no  man  lay. 
He  is  precious  to  him  as  "  the  Head-stone  of  the  corner." 
"He  is  precious  to  them  that  believe."  If  you  have  not 
done  so,  come  to  him  now,  in  this  hour  of  transition,  and 
of  look-out  upon  tlie  future,  and  he  will  be  precious  to  you. 
Is  it  to  be  to  any  of  you  that  your  strength  will  be  weak- 
ened in  the  way  and  that  death  will  claim  you  early  ? 
Christ  will  be  precious,  O  how  precious  !  Are  you  to  bear 
the  responsibilities  of  life,  and  wage  its  battles  till  old  age  ? 
Little  do  you  know  of  your  own  weakness,  and  of  the 
besetments  and  fierce  struggles  of  the  long  v/ay,  if  a  divine 
Helper  would  not  be  precious  to  you.  He  will  be  precious 
to  you  in  the  final  hour.  When  you  shall  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  his  rod  and  his  staff,  they 
shall  comfort  you.  And  when  the  present  order  shall  come 
to  an  end,  and  that  building  of  God,  whose  stones  are  now 
preparing,  shall  go  up  without  a  sound  of  the  axe  or  the 
hammer,  till  "  the  head-stone  thereof  shall  be  brought  forth 
with  shoutings,"  you  shall  be  there,  and  cry,  "  Grace, 
grace,  unto  it." 


XL 


ENLARGEMENT. 

Now  for  a  recompense  in  the  same,  (I  speak  as  unto  my  children,)  be  ye  also 
enlarged.— 2  Corinthians,  vi.  13. 

THAT  is  a  slow  process  by  which  enlargement  comes 
to  man  in  his  apprehension  of  himself,  and  of  his 
wider  relations.  At  his  birth  he  is  often  spoken  of  as  a 
stranger.  He  is  a  stranger  in  a  strange  world — how 
strange ! — but  to  no  one  is  he  a  greater  stranger  than  to 
himself.  How  little  does  the  infant  know  or  suspect  of  the 
capacities  that  are  in  him  for  apprehension,  for  joy  and 
suffering,  for  varied  emotion  and  passion,  for  action,  and 
for  an  eternal  duration.  He  is  a  point  that  is  to  enlarge 
into  a  capacity  to  reflect  the  universe,  but  that  capacity  is 
revealed  only  as  he  is  brought  face  to  face  with  that  which 
is  to  act  upon  him,  and  upon  which  he  is  to  act,  and  few 
men,  if  any,  learn,  during  a  life-time,  their  own  capacities. 
Among  the  last  things  that  a  man  comes  to  know  thorough- 
ly, is  himself 

Then  of  the  past,  of  the  future,  of  things  around  him, 
what  does  he  know  ?  Of  that  endless  duration  that  is  back 
of  him,  he  knows  nothing.  He  does  not  know  that  there 
has  been  such  a  duration,  much  less  what  has  taken  place 
during  its  countless  ages.  Whether  he  is  the  first  child 
of  the  first  man,  or  the  last  in  a  succession  of  myriads  of 
generations,  he  knows  not.  So  of  the  space  around  him, 
and  what  is  in  it.     To  him,  the  walls  that  his  eyes  rest  upor 

♦**  August  2,  1863. 


ENLARGEMENT.  I97 

are  the  limit  of  the  universe,  and  those  around  him  are  all 
the  beings  it  contains.  Of  wide  plains,  and  high  moun- 
tains, and  broad  oceans,  of  an  infinite  space  with  its  count- 
less suns  and  systems,  of  the  multitudes  of  men,  and  the 
myriads  of  the  heavenly  hosts,  he  has  no  apprehension  or 
suspicion.  So  also  of  the  great  future.  Shall  all  things 
continue  as  they  are  forever .?  Shall  the  earth  and  the 
things  that  are  therein  be  burnt  up  }  When  will  the  mil- 
lenium  begin  ?  Where  will  he  be  after  myriads  of  ages  .-* 
These,  and  such  as  these,  are  questions  that  do  not  as  yet 
disturb  him. 

Now  the  business  of  education  for  this  incipient  being, 
certainly  its  first  business,  is  simply  enlargement — enlarge- 
ment in  the  apprehension  of  things  past,  and  future,  and 
around  him  ;  and  the  comprehension  of  them  so  as  to  bring 
them  all  into  unity. 

But  to  this  enlargement  there  are  great  natural  obsta- 
cles ;  and  if  man  be  left  to  himself,  it  must,  whether  we 
regard  the  individual  or  the  race,  be  slow.  In  part,  it  is 
indeed  spontaneous.  The  child,  let  alone,  will  grow  up  to 
such  apprehension  and  enlargement  as  will  enable  him  to 
meet  his  animal  wants,  and  something  more.  But  in  its 
relation  to  the  human  faculties,  this  universe  is  so  consti- 
tuted that  enlargement  soon  ceases,  unless  there  be  volun- 
tary, rational, persistent,  and  organized  effort.  From  the 
great  number  of  objects  around  us,  their  complexity,  the 
magnitude  of  some  and  the  minuteness  of  others;  from  the 
subtlety  of  natural  agents,  the  interaction  of  laws  and  the 
long  cycles  of  nature  ;  and  from  the  necessity  of  labor  and 
the  brevity  of  life,  it  is  clear  that  one  individual,  or  one 
generation,  could  do  but  little.  How  could  the  first  man, 
or  the  first  generations  of  men,  have  known  that  the  earth 
is  round,  or  that  it  revolves  round  the  sun,  or  that  its  sur- 
face lies  in  strata,  or  have  calculated  an  eclipse  ?     How 


igS  ENLARGEMENT. 

could  they  have  known  the  composition  of  bodies,  and  the 
subtle  agents  of  chemistry  ?  Clearly  man  was  placed  here 
as  in  a  school,  and  both  the  individual  and  the  race  were 
to  be  gradually  educated  into  such  an  enlargement  as  to 
comprehend  and  use  wisely  the  substances  and  forces 
around  him,  and  to  know  something  of  his  position,  among 
the  stars,  and  as  related  to  other  worlds. 

Owing  to  the  obstacles  just  mentioned,  this  process 
of  enlargement  could  not  have  been  rapid,  but  it  might 
have  been  more  so  than  it  has  been.  Men  are  sluggish, 
and  gravitate  towards  sensuality ;  they  fall  into  habits  and 
routine,  and  run  in  ruts  ;  they  carry  the  grain  on  one  side 
of  the  horse,  and  a  stone  on  the  other  because  their  fathers 
did.  Notions  indolently  taken  up  gather  about  them  a 
crust  of  antiquity  that  no  one  dares  to  break  through. 
There  is  nothing  that  men  have  been  so  reluctant  to  do  as 
to  think.  They  would  go  on  pilgrimages,  hang  on  hooks, 
accept  dogmas,  bow  down  to  power,  but  they  have  been 
slow  to  put  forth  their  powers  in  an  earnest  effort  after 
comprehension  and  enlargement. 

And  not  indolence  only,  but  pride  and  selfishness  have 
arrayed  and  organized  themselves  against  this  enlargement. 
Once  accepted,  a  dogma  links  itself  with  modes  of  thought 
and  habits  of  association  ;  it  becomes  a  part  of  the  systems 
of  the  schools,  or  of  religious  teaching.  Then  pride  comes 
in,  and  the  will  is  up,  and  men  contend,  not  for  truth,  but 
for  victory.  Often  also  a  dogma  is  so  inwoven  with  the 
structure  of  society,  that  if  you  overthrow  it,  men's  occupa- 
tion will  be  gone.  Then  interest  takes  the  lead,  and  pride 
and  passion  fall  in,  and  the  whole  guild  of  silversmiths, 
with  whatever  rabble  they  can  collect,  are  full  of  wrath, 
and  cry  out,  saying,  "  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians." 
Again,  knowledge  is  power.  Ignorant  men  may  be  held 
in  subjection,  and  used  as  instruments  ;  and  whole  classes, 


ENLARGEMENT.  I99 

nay,  the  mass  of  mankind,  have  been  so  held  of  set  pur- 
pose and  by  law,  that  those  thus  holding  them  might  rule 
over  them  and  avail  themselves  of  their  labor. 

From  these  causes  there  has  been  little  zeal  for  truth ; 
and  men  zealous  for  it,  and  especially  those  in  advance  of 
their  age,  have  been  persecuted.  Leaders  of  the  race,  and 
those  set  for  the  advancement  of  truth,  have  been  its  worst 
enemies.  Holding  the  key  of  knowledge,  they  have  not 
entered  in  themselves,  and  them  that  were  entering  in, 
they  have  hindered.  Seats  of  learning,  the  very  fortresses 
erected  to  guard  and  advance  truth,  have  turned  their 
guns  against  her. 

•  But  now  there  is  a  change.  The  bonds  are  relaxed. 
Henceforth  no  coming  Galileo  shall  need  to  smite  with  his 
foot  the  floor  of  a  dungeon  when  he  says  the  earth  moves. 
If  not  the  summer,  yet  the  spring-time  of  truth  is  come. 
The  few  are  greatly  enlarged,  and  the  mass  of  humanity  is 
quickened.  A  feeling  that  gropes  for  the  light,  is  pervad- 
ing it,  a  dim  thought  that  it  is  coming  out  into  enlarge- 
ment. Always  there  has  been  a  voice  from  every  thing 
that  could  supply  want,  or  gratify  curiosity,  or  enlarge 
science,  or  adorn  life,  from  the  flower  on  the  earth  and 
the  star  in  the  heavens,  saying,  Be  ye  enlarged ;  but  now 
that  voice  is  heard  by  the  alert  sense  of  very  many.  Now, 
too,  it  begins  to  be  felt  that  truth  is  one.  The  different 
angles  and  walls  of  her  temple  are  seen  to  belong  to  one 
building,  and  instead  of  scowls  and  reproaches,  the  work- 
men more  often  send  greetings  to  each  other,  and  feel  that 
they  are  working  together. 

To  this  wide  enlargement  there  are,  as  has  been  said, 
natural  obstacles;  but  there  is  also  a  tendency  to  it,  and 
with  right  affections  progress  would  be  indefinite.  From 
the  first,  the  affections  are  complicated  with  the  intellect, 
they  react  upon  it  as  the  brain  upon  the  stomach,  and  when 


200  ENLARGEMENT. 

these  are  disordered  and  dwarfed,  it  is  not  possible  that  the 
general  intellectual  level  should  be  high.  Society  will  soon 
reach  a  point  where  it  will  become  stationary,  and  will 
begin  to  go  back.  Hence  the  great  thing  needed  is  enlarge- 
ment of  the  affections,  and  it  is  accordingly  of  this  that  the 
Apostle  Paul  speaks  when  he  says.  "  O,  ye  Corinthians," 
"our  mouth  is  open  unto  you,  our  heart  is  enlarged.  Ye 
are  not  straitened  in  us,  but  ye  are  straitened  in  your  own 
bowels.  Now  for  a  recompense  in  the  same,  (I  speak  as 
unto  my  children,)  be  ye  also  enlarged."  Be  enlarged  in 
your  affections.  Give  as  you  receive  ;  love  as  you  are 
loved. 

For  the  Apostle  Paul  to  say  this  to  the  Corinthians, 
was  a  great  thing — how  great,  we  can  understand  only  by 
going  back  to  his  position.  Socially,  the  world  was  in  a 
state  of  disintegration.  Men  were  divided  into  clans 
tribes,  nationalities,  with  diversities  of  language,  customs, 
interests,  that  were  constant  grounds  of  alienation  and  of 
settled  antipathies ;  and,  to  human  view,  any  common 
ground  or  centre  of  unity  for  the  race  was  hopeless.  Ex- 
cept in  dreams  of  conquest  and  subjugation,  the  very  idea 
of  such  unity  did  not  exist.  But  of  nations  thus  diverse 
and  hostile,  the  Jews  were  the  most  exclusive,  and  the 
Apostle  was  not  only  a  Jew,  but  had  belonged  to  their 
straitest  religious  sect.  As  a  Jew,  his  pride,  and  self-com- 
placency, and  zeal  for  Judaism,  were  boundless,  and  he 
looked  upon  Gentiles  with  contempt  and  aversion.  Yet 
we  here  find  him  offering  his  fraternal  regards,  and  warm- 
est love,  and  intimate  fellowship  to  Gentiles,  and  seeking 
theirs  in  return,  and  this  without  regard  to  the  previous 
rank,  or  cultivation,  or  character  of  those  Gentiles.  Of 
some  we  know  that  their  origin  was  low,  and  that  their 
character  had  been  vile.  This  too  he  did  on  a  principle 
that  would  include  all,  for   we  hear  him  saying  to  other 


ENLARGEMENT.  201 

Gentiles,  "  There  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  is  neither 
bond  nor  free,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female ;  for  ye 
are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus.  And  if  ye  be  Christ's,  then 
are  ye  Abraham's  seed,  and  heirs  according  to  the  pro- 
mise. 

Now  here  was  a  moral  miracle.  I  do  not  hesitate  to 
say  it.  To  one  who  has  observed  the  tenacity  of  national 
pride  and  hate,  and  the  virulance  of  religious  bigotry,  and 
who  knows  the  state  of  feeling  at  that  time  in  regard  to 
women  and  slaves  and  barbarians,  this  transition  from  the 
extreme  of  narrowness  to  enlargement  and  absolute  uni- 
versality of  affection,  and  to  the  recognition  of  all  as 
entitled  to  common  privileges,  is  as  unaccountable  on 
merely  natural  principles  as  any  miracle  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament. Now,  the  sympathies  of  this  former  bigot  em- 
braced the  race.  He  knew  no  man  after  the  flesh.  To 
him  every  man  was  a  man^  made  in  the  image  of  God, 
redeemed  by  Christ,  exposed  to  the  second  death,  but 
capable  of  being  saved,  and  so  he  preached  Christianity 
to  all  men  alike,  and  received  all  men  alike,  for  so  must  it 
be  preached,  and  so  must  men  be  received,  if  it  is  to 
have  its  full  power. 

In  adopting  the  above  principle,  the  Apostle  was  sim- 
ply faithful  to  the  system  he  had  espoused,  which  stood 
self-vindicated  as  from  God  by  its  recognition  of  man  as 
man,  and  through  that,  by  its  fitness  and  tendency  to 
become  universal.  Hence  its  leavening  power.  Did  the 
Apostle  preach  at  Rome  ?  Why  not  in  Spain  also  .'*  If 
in  Spain,  why  not  in  Britian  and  to  our  barbarous  ances- 
tors there  t  By  ignoring  every  thing  incidental,  and  seiz- 
ing, as  the  material  of  its  system  and  the  ground  of  its 
regards  upon  humanity  itself  as  it  must  exist  under  all 
modifications,  it  passed  at  once  through  all  barriers  of 
nationality,  and  clanship,  and  caste,   and  condition,  and 


202  ENLARGEMENT. 

showed  itself  to  have  an  assimulating^an  organizing  power 
that  was  capable  of  bringing  all  people  into  unity.  This 
was  the  wonderful  fact  about  it.  As  related  to  ultimate 
success  it  was  the  cardinal  fact,  and  one  not  to  be  com- 
promised. It  is  the  fact  that  has  made  Christianity  revolu- 
tionary from  that  day  to  this.  If  at  times  the  giant  has 
seemed  to  be  quiet,  as  if  pressed  down  by  the  mountains 
of  human  wickedness,  it  has  only  been  to  gather  strength 
for  the  upheaval,  and  the  earthquake.  And  so  it  will  be, 
for  in  this  fact  is  the  principle  of  all  true  progress. 

Marvellous  then  as  this  enlargement  of  the  Apostle 
would  appear  on  any  other  ground,  it  is  yet  perfectly 
natural  when  we  look  at  him  as  a  disciple  of  Christ  both 
comprehending  his  system,  and  in  sympathy  with  him. 
As  in  sympathy  with  Christ  he  could  not  do  otherwise 
The  example  of  Christ  was  the  great  miracle  of  love,  both 
in  its  intensity  and  in  its  enlargement.  In  its  intensity  it 
was  unto  death,  in  its  enlargement  it  was  for  the  whole 
world.  Receiving  such  a  spirit  of  enlargement  as  this  from 
the  Master,  how  could  there  be  in  the  diciple  any  thing  of 
restriction  or  limitation  ?  How  could  he  refuse  to  preach 
Christ's  gospel  to  any  for  whom  He  died  ?  How  could 
he  refuse  to  receive  any  whom  Christ  received  ?  No 
longer  do  we  wonder  when  we  find  this  former  bigot  and 
persecutor  exulting  in  this  universality,  and  saying  so 
freely,  and  fully,  and  grandly,  "  Where  there  is  neither 
Greek  nor  Jew,  circumcision  nor  uncircumcision,  Bar- 
barian, Scythian,  bond  nor  free  ;  but  Christ  is  all,  and 
in  all. 

From  this  example  of  the  Apostle,  we  readily  see  what 
that  enlargement  is  of  which  he  speaks.  It  is  a  coming 
out  from  all  narrowness  and  restriction  of  nationality,  or 
clanship,  or  sect,  or  caste,  or  local  prejudice,  or  prejudice 
from  color,  and  so  apprehending  the  rights  of  man  as  God- 


ENLARGEMENT.  203 

given,  and  his  dignity  and  destiny  as  made  in  the  image 
of  God,  that  we  shall  always  feel  towards  every  man,  and 
treat  him  as  a  man.  This  is  no  glittering  generality,  bar- 
ren and  impracticable.  It  is  the  great  want  and  claim  of 
this  age  in  which  we  live.  It  is  the  law  of  God.  It  is  the 
claim  of  humanity, 

This  enlargement,  which  is  that  of  Christianity,  some, 
especially  French  writers,  have  sought  to  identify  with 
democracy  ;  but  while  Christianity  is  the  only  foundation 
of  a  quiet  and  permanent  democracy,  they  are  yet  rather 
in  contrast.  Democracy  respects  political  rights  and  re- 
lations ;  Christianity  respects  all  relations,  and  may  exist 
under  all  forms  of  government.  Democracy  looks  chiefly 
at  rights  ;  Christianity  at  duties.  Democracy  respects 
this  world  ;  Christianity  includes  both  worlds,  but  looks 
chiefly  at  ultimate  destiny.  Democracy  concedes  rights, 
but  requires  no  enlargement  of  the  affections;  Christianity 
is,  itself,  in  its  very  essence,  an  enlargement  of  the  affec- 
tions. Democracy  is  compatible  with  great  individual 
corruption  within  a  nation,  and  with  hostility  and  bound- 
less ambition  in  the  relations  of  nations  to  each  other  ; 
Christianity  involves  individual  integrity  and  good-will  to 
all.  Democracy  may  be  atheistic — men  have  sought  to 
make  it  so;  the  very  principle  and  foundation  of  Chris- 
tianity and  the  enlargement  it  implies,  is  from  the  relation 
of  each  to  all  as  in  the  image  of  God,  and  so  from  their 
common  relation  to  him. 

To  the  enlargement  now  spoken  of  there  is  not,  as  to 
that  of  apprehension,  any  natural  obstacle.  Enlargement 
of  aff"ection  might,  and  should  accompany  that  of  the  in- 
tellect as  naturally  as  the  heat  of  the  sun  accompanies  its 
light.  But  in  this  world  it  is  not  thus,  and  it  is  both  sad 
and  amazing — if  it  were  not  so  sad  it  would  be  amusing — 
to  trace  the  history  of  the  world  as  it  is  related  to  this 


204  ENLARGEMENT. 

want  of  enlargement.  There  is  no  conceivable  differance 
by  which  men  are  separated  from  each  other  that  has  not 
been  made  a  ground  of  alienation  in  affection  and  often 
of  positive  hostility. 

"  Lands  intersected  by  a  narrow  frith 
Abhor  each  othei.     Mountains  interposed 
Make  enemies  of  nations.  " 

A  difference  in  name,  nation,  color,  language,  clan, 
occupation,  residence,  as  in  different  towns,  or  even,  at 
different  ends  of  the  same  street,  and  especially  a  differ- 
ence of  belief  and  opinion,  become  the  ground  of  alien- 
ations, divisions,  and  of  settled,  hereditary  and  unreasoning 
hate.  Passions  thus  excited  have  been  strong  enough  to 
override  both  humanity  and  self-interest.  Often,  as  in 
families  and  clans, 'these  passions  have  been  intense  and 
persistent  in  proportion  as  their  range  has  been  narrow  ; 
often  too  as  the  point  of  difference  has  been  frivolous,  and 
and  as  the  opponents  resembled  each  other  the  more, 
except  in  the  one  point  of  difference. 

Such  differences  must,  of  course,  respect  points  that  are 
capable  of  drawing  in  by  association  the  deep  feelings  of 
our  nature,  and  will  have  more  power  as  those  feelings  are 
deeper. 

Hence  it  is  that,  in  this  respect,  religion  has  furnished 
so  sad  a  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  world.  When  its 
grand  beliefs,  tending  only  to  enlargement,  are  displaced 
by  superstition,  and  those  deep  feelings  in  which  true  reli- 
gion chiefly  consists,  concentrate  themselves  about  trifles 
and  forms,  we  might  expect  a  narrowness  more  intense 
than  any  other,  and  a  bigotry  more  unscrupulous  and  cruel. 
And  so  it  has  been,  and  is  now.  So  great  has  been  this 
narrowness  that  it  has  been  impossible  to  caricature  it,  be- 
cause the  imagination  could  conceive  of  nothing  more  nar- 


ENLARGEMENT.  20$ 

row.  The  Little-Endians  and  the  Big-Endians  of  Swift, 
whose  difference  was  on  the  question  whether  they  should 
break  their  eggs  at  Easter  at  the  little  or  the  big  end,  were 
not  a  whit  beyond  the  four-year-olds  and  the  five-year-olds 
in  Ireland,  whose  feuds  have  often  led  to  murder,  and  be- 
tween whom  it  became  necessary  for  the  bishop  to  inter- 
pose his  authority.  But  more  wonderful  than  this,  we  have 
seen,  in  our  own  country,  large  and  intelligent  bodies  of 
Christians  whose  differences  touched,  and  were  conceded 
to  touch,  no  vital  point  of  Christianity,  withholding  all 
tokens  of  Christian  communion  and  fellowship,  and  holding 
each  other  as  heathen  men  and  publicans  ;  and  we  have 
even  heard  prescribed,  as  the  way  of  peace,  the  putting 
up  of  high  fences  and  keeping  them  in  good  repair.  What 
a  work  for  the  followers  of  Him  who  "  broke  down  the 
middle  wall  of  partition  "  between  the  Jews  and  the  Gen- 
tiles, "  having  abolished  in  his  flesh  the  enmity,  even  the 
law  of  commandments  contained  in  ordinances  " — that  is 
in  external  rites  and  things  unessential — "for  to  make  in 
himself  oi  twain,  one  new  man,  so  making  peace  !  " 

It  is  also  impossible  to  conceive  of  bigotry  more  un- 
scrupulous and  cruel  than  there  has  been.  In  connection 
with  no  one  of  its  elements,  save  that  of  religion,  could 
human  nature  have  either  originated  or  endured  such  an 
institution  as  the  Inquisition ;  and  the  imagination  may  be 
drawn  on  in  vain  to  exceed  in  its  conceptions  the  horrid  en- 
ginery that  has  been  devised  to  do  professedly  the  work 
of  Christian  love. 

But  as  much  ground  as  there  is  for  discouragement  in 
regard  to  this  form  of  enlargement,  yet  here,  too,  the  bonds 
are  relaxed.  Not  alone  is  there  light  on  the  mountain 
tops,  there  is  more  of  quickening  warmth  in  the  valleys, 
and  here  and  there  a  deeper  verdure.  That  the  perfection 
of  the  world  requires  that  the  two  forms  of  enlargement 


206  ENLARGEMENT. 

should  go  on  together,  we  can  see.  But  as  there  are  in 
the  way  of  this  no  natural  obstacles,  so  neither  is  there  for 
it,  any  law  of  progress,  except  as  love  naturally  follows 
light,  which  all  experience  shows  that  in  this  world  it  does 
not  in  fact  do.  Hence,  for  such  a  training  of  the  race  as 
shall  effect  this  enlargement,  we  must  rely  wholly  on  the 
special  providence  and  grace  of  God. 

The  two  points  to  be  reached  are — the  one,  that  every 
man  shall  so  respect  manhood  as  to  treat  every  other  man 
as  a  man — the  other,  that  every  Christian  shall  so  respect 
Christianhood,  as  to  treat  every  Christian  as  a  Christian. 
Manhood  in  man  ;  Christ  in  the  Christian — these  are  to 
be  the  objects  of  our  regard,  and  nothing  selfish  or  sec- 
tarian, nothing  local  or  accidental  may  prevent  our  enlarge- 
ment to  the  full  recognition  of  every  right  and  claim  which 
these  would  involve.  It  is  not  that  the  claims  of  self- 
interest  rightly  viewed,  and  of  nearer  relationship  are  to 
be  disregarded.  These  have  their  place,  primary,  imper- 
ative, sacred ;  but  these  claims  are  met  with  the  broadest 
wisdom  only  when  they  are  met  in  full  compatibility  with 
the  claims  of  the  widest  enlargement.  Towards  these  two 
points  the  movement  has  been  slow.  It  is  wonderful  with 
what  diflficulty  men  have  broken  away  from  the  narrowness 
of  family,  and  clan,  and  tribe,  and  party,  and  caste,  and 
sect,  and  nationality.  But  there  has  been  movement. 
Feudalism  melted  into  nationalities,  often  ill-assorted,  and 
mere  aggregates,  but  always  with  some  increase  of  enlarge- 
ment. Clanship,  as  in  Scotland,  that  seemed  to  inhere  as 
by  some  special  mordant,  has  faded  out.  The  Thugism 
of  Ireland  has  well-nigh  passed  away.  The  French  Em- 
peror has  kissed  the  English  Queen,  and  the  English  and 
French  have  fought  side  by  side.  A  new  continent,  this 
American  continent,  has  been  opened,  where  men  might 
stand  and  see  in  the  distance,  and  in  a  way  to  cause  en- 


ENLARGEMENT. 


207 


largement,  arbitrary  distinctions  and  conventionalities  that 
had  become  chronic  and  hopeless,  and  where  they  might 
begin  anew  on  a  broader  basis.  To  this  continent  and  to 
this  country  have  been  swept,  as  by  a  vast  diluvial  current, 
English,  and  Irish,  and  Scotch,  and  French,  and  Germans, 
and  Hollanders,  and  Swedes,  and  Jews  ;  and  in  the  sur- 
ging of  free  institutions  they  have  been  rolled  together,  and 
rounded,  and  smoothed.  No  experiment  devised  for  the 
purpose  could  have  been  better  adapted  to  promote  en- 
largement. 

And  if  we  turn  from  nationalities  and  political  relations 
to  the  church  and  to  sects,  there  too  there  is  movement. 
The  cave  whence  Giant  Pope  formerly  came  out  to  seize 
pilgrims  on  the  King's  highway,  has  become  his  prison, 
where  he  is  guarded  by  foreign  soldiers,  and  must  needs 
be  defended  from  his  own  subjects.  The  Inquisition  can- 
not be  reproduced.  Even  Turks  are  converted  to  Christ, 
and  avow  it,  and  their  heads  remain  on  their  shoulders. 
Nay,  Turkey  may  well  put  Spain  to  the  blush,  for  there 
the  Bible  may  be  freely  sold  and  read.  In  England  there 
is  progress.  The  intolerance  of  the  Established  Church 
is  waning,  and,  both  politically  and  socially,  Dissenters 
are  less  under  ban.  And  then  there  is  one  country  where 
there  is  no  alliance  of  church  and  state,  and  no  civil  dis- 
ability, or  liability  to  taxation,  or  social  ban  with  a  court 
to  sanction  it,  on  account  of  religious  belief,  or  form  of 
worship.  If,  to  some  of  these  things  there  are  tendencies 
here  ;  if  we  are  in  danger,  as  we  are,  from  ecclesiasticism  ; 
if  the  old  aristocratic  leaven,  driven  from  politics,  tends  to 
pass  into  the  church  ;  there  are  also  opposite  tendencies, 
and  we  hope  the  spirit  of  enlargement  will  gain  the  mas- 
tery.    It  must  gain  it  in  the  end. 

Having  thus  seen  what  full  enlargement  would  be  1 
observe  in  the  first  place,  that  the  Bible  method  of  reach- 
6 


208  ENLARGEMENT. 

ing  this  is  the  reverse  of  that  adopted  by  the  world.  The 
world  seeks  first  intellectual  enlargement.  Its  education 
is  for  that,  and  the  ends  secured  through  that.  For  en- 
largement of  the  heart  it  cares  little,  and  supposes  that 
will  follow  of  course.  But  not  thus  can  even  a  general 
enlightenment  be  reached.  The  interworkings  and  coun- 
teractions of  selfishness  w^ould  prevent  that.  Those  who 
would  gain  such  enlightenment  must  first  seek  a  higher 
end,  as  he  who  would  have  all  other  things  added  must 
first  seek  the  kingdom  of  God.  Hence  the  method  of  the 
Bible  is  to  begin  with  the  heart.  Any  enlargement  of 
the  intellect  without  this  it  reckons  as  nothing.  For  the 
guidance  of  a  moral  being  it  is  nothing.  The  doctrine  of 
the  Bible  is,  that  "  he  that  loveth  his  brother  walketh  in 
the  light,"  but  that  "  he  that  hateth  his  brother  is  in  dark- 
ness^ and  walketh  in  darkness,  and  knoweth  not  whither  he 
gocthy  because  that  darkness  hath  blinded  his  eyes.''  This 
doctrine  the  world  has  yet  to  learn.  A  general  enlarge- 
ment of  intellect  in  any  community  can  be  reached  only 
by  bringing  to  bear  upon  the  heart  of  that  community  the 
great  motives  of  Christ's  Gospel. 

And  now  it  has  not  escaped  the  observation  of  many, 
that  the  point  of  enlargement  to  which  the  providence  of 
God  is  pressing  us  in  this  war,  is  the  full  recognition  of 
the  manhood  of  the  negro  in  all  its  rights  as  a  man. 
This  point  as  fully  as  the  laws  of  the  Union  would  allow, 
was  reached  in  this  State,  immediately  after  the  Revolu- 
tion. In  the  eye  of  the  law  the  negro  was  placed  on  an 
equality  with  other  men.  From  this  no  harm  came,  and 
if  this  point  could  be  reached  throughout  the  whole  coun- 
try to-morrow,  our  troubles  would  cease.  When  the  black 
man  shall  be  permitted  to  go  where  he  pleases,  to  earn 
his  own  honest  living  in  his  own  way,  to  enjoy  all  the 
natural  rights  of  a  man,  and  such  civil  rights  as  he  is  fitted 


ENLARGEMENT.  209 

for,  the  country  will  be  quiet.  We  may  not  wish  this  ; 
probably  we  should  not  have  ordered  it  so ;  we  may  strug- 
gle against  it.  But  this  distinction  of  color  and  of  race  is 
from  God  ;  these  people  are  here  by  his  appointment,  and 
we  are  not  to  narrow  ourselves  by  prejudice,  and  fear  that 
the  heavens  will  fall,  if  we  apply  impartially  and  fully 
those  great  principles  of  natural  right  which  are  surely 
from  God,  and  which  we  have  avowed  before  the  world. 
It  is  these  principles  that  are  now  in  question,  and  it  is  the 
struggle  between  these  and  their  opposites  that  is  convuls- 
ing, and  is  yet  to  convulse  the  nations. 

It  is  into  that  double  enlargement  of  the  intellect  and 
the  heart  which  has  been  presented  in  this  Discourse,  that 
I  now  invite  you,  to  enter  more  fully.  With  the  enlarge- 
ment of  your  sphere  of  action,  he  ye  also  enlarged. 

But,  as  you  will  have  inferred  already,  my  chief  desire 
is  that  you  should  be  enlarged  in  your  hearts.  There  has 
been  enlargement  of  heart  towards  you.  You  little  know 
how  you  have  been  loved  and  cared  for  by  parents  and 
friends.  There  has  been  enlargement  on  the  part  of  the 
public  in  providing  for  your  education  ;  there  has  been 
enlargement  towards  you  in  the  hearts  of  your  teachers — 
and  now  what  we  ask  you  is,  "  For  a  recompense  in  the 
same."  The  best  recompense  of  love  is  love  in  return, 
and  the  deeds  which  love  prompts.  What  a  recompense 
that  is  which  you  can  make  to  your  parents  and  friends  ! 
How  will  your  parents  rejoice,  how  will  your  friends,  to 
see  you  giving  back  love  for  love,  care  for  care,  and  fill- 
ing every  enlarged  sphere  with  an  enlargement  of  intellect 
and  of  heart  like  that  of  the  Apostle  himself. 

For  this  enlargement  there  is  ample  scope  in  this 
world  ;  but  in  that  which  is  to  come,  O  the  illimitable 
enlargement  of  which  you  are  capable  !     O  the   wealth 


210  ENLARGEMENT. 

which  God  has  provided  !  The  wealth  of  this  universe  is 
not  in  the  things  that  may  be  possessed,  though  they  be 
gold  and  gems,  though  they  be  suns  and  systems  ;  nor  yet 
in  the  sciences  that  may  be  known,  though  they  branch 
out  into  infinity  ;  but  it  is  in  the  beings  that  may  be 
loved — God  himself  and  his  holy  kingdom.  Possessions, 
^  knowledge,  are  but  the  pedestal  to  be  crowned  with  love.y 
It  is  because  there  is  excellence  to  be  loved  that  heaven 
is  possible,  and  the  possibilities  of  heaven  itself  are  to  be 
measured  by  the  possible  enlargement  of  love. 

At  this  point,  however,  perhaps  a  caution  is  needed. 
The  enlargement  to  which  I  call  you  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  what  is  sometimes  called  liberality.  This  is 
a  term  under  which,  with  the  pretence  of  enlargement, 
men  often  cover  indifference  to  the  truth,  and,  if  the  truth 
be  pressed,  essential  narrowness  and  even  bitterness. 
With  such  liberality,  the  enlargement  to  which  I  call  you  has 
no  affinity.  It  is  its  opposite.  The  more  enlargement 
there  is,  the  more  vivid  the  apprehension  will  be  of  the 
beauty  of  truth,  and  of  the  dignity  and  excellence  and 
unutterable  value  of  righteousness.  You  are  called  to  an 
enlargement  of  comprehension  and  of  love  like  that  of 
Paul,  with  a  corresponding  opposition  to  all  fundamental 
error  and  essential  wickedness.  The  enlargement  to 
which  I  call  you  is  that  of  Christianity  itself,  which  is  at 
once  the  most  universal  and  cathoHc,  and  the  most  exclu- 
sive of  all  systems.  If  it  had  not  been  broad  and  catholic, 
it  would  not  have  been  fitted  to  include  all  nations  ;  if  it 
had  not  been  exclusive,  it  would  not  have  revolutionized 
the  world — it  would  not  have  had  martyrs.  Christ  him- 
self would  not  have  died,  if  there  had  not  been  something 
to  stand  up  for,  and  to  hold  on  to,  with  the  whole  energy 
of  our  being.  What  this  is  we  may  know.  God  has  not 
shut  men  up  to  the  alternative  of  the  frigidity  and  imbec- 


ENLARGEMENT.  211 

ility  of  indifference  on  the  one  hand  or  to  a  narrow  and 
fierce  bigotry  on  the  other.  No  ;  there  is  an  open  way 
of  enlargement  in  comprehension,  and  in  the  love  of  God 
and  of  man,  and  in  hating  nothing  that  love  and  righteous- 
ness do  not  compel  us  to  hate. 

With  this  caution,  the  word  that  I  would  leave  with  you, 
that  I  ask  you  to  carry  with  you  through  life,  is  enlargement 
— enlargement  of  intellect,  enlargement  of  the  heart,  en- 
largement of  the  intellect  through  that  of  the  heart. 

From  this  combination  there  will  naturally,  but  not 
necessarily  follow,  an  enlargement  of  personal  influence. 
To  insure  this  there  must  be  added,  energy  of  will.  With 
that  added,  your  preparation  for  the  work  of  life  will  be 
complete.  Then,  not  only  will  you  yourselves  grow  by  the 
exertion  of  your  own  activities  in  the  right  direction — grow 
to  be  more  like  God,  and  so  more  truly  human — but  in  the 
same  proportion  you  will  have  an  influence  for  good  over 
others  !  This  is  the  object  of  a  legitimate  ambition  ;  and 
in  this  you  will  find,  what  so  few  have  found,  the  point  of 
coincidence  between  the  highest  ambition  and  the  highest 
duty. 

And  now,  my  dear  friends,  in  view  of  what  has  been 
done  for  you,  of  what  is  expected  of  you ;  of  the  wants  of 
a  lost  world ;  in  view  of  your  capacities,  and  of  the  scope 
there  is  for  them  in  the  infinities  that  surround  you  ;  in 
view  of  the  call  of  God  himself,  and  of  Redeeming  Love,  I 
speak  to  you  as  unto  my  children,  and  I  say  to  you,  "  Be 
ye  also  enlarged." 


XII. 

CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 
Choose  you  this  day  whom  ye  will  serve.— Joshua,  xxiv.  15. 

PROBABLY  Joshua  is  the  most  illustrious  example  on 
record  of  a  great  warrior  who  was  also  a  thoroughly 
religious  man.  Chosen  by  God  to  bring  Israel  into  the 
promised  land,  he  had  under  him  a  people  trained  as  no 
other  had  ever  been.  With  the  exception  of  Caleb  the 
son  of  Jephunneh,  not  a  man  of  them  was  over  sixty  years 
old.  The  faint-hearted  and  the  murmurers  of  a  former 
generation  had  perished,  every  one  of  them,  from  among 
them,  and  the  nation,  instinct  with  one  life  and  one  pur- 
pose, were  ready  to  follow  their  leader.  The  faith  of  that 
leader  never  faltered,  and  with  the  single  exception  when 
there  was  an  Achan  in  the  camp,  he  led  them  to  uniform 
victory.  Having  conquered  the  country,  he  divided  to 
each  tribe  its  inheritance,  and  for  a  time  the  land  rested 
in  quiet. 

In  this  quiet  the  Israelites  did  not  relapse  into  idolatry. 
They  remained  steadfast  in  their  allegiance  to  God.  That 
generation  and  the  succeeding  one  received  a  higher  testi- 
mony than  any  other  that  has  been  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
It  is  said,  "And  Israel  served  the  Lord  all  the  days  of 
Joshua,  and  all  the  days  of  the  elders  that  overlived  Joshua, 
and  which  had  known  all  the  works  of  the  Lord  that  he 
had  done  for  Israel."     Still,  the  heathen  were  not  entirely 

*♦*  July  31,  1864. 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  213 

expelled  ;  the  Israelites  were  the  descendants  of  those  who 
had  made  the  golden  calf  at  the  foot  of  Sinai,  and  as  the 
time  for  his  death  drew  near,  Joshua  desired  to  do  some- 
thing to  guard  the  people  against  that  departure  from  the 
living  God  which  was  the  only  thing  they  had  to  fear. 

Accordingly  he  "  gathered  all  the  tribes  of  Israel  to 
Shechem,  and  called  for  the  elders  of  Israel,  and  for  their 
heads,  and  for  their  officers  ;  and  they  presented  them- 
selves before  God."  Then  was  seen  one  of  the  most 
solemn  and  imposing  spectacles  in  the  history  of  the  nation. 
This  leader,  whose  success  had  been  so  great,  whose 
authority  had  never,  like  that  of  Moses,  been  questioned, 
now  more  than  a  hundred  years  old,  stood  before  the  assem- 
bled nation,  and  surrounded  by  its  chief  men,  recounted  to 
them  what  God  had  done  for  them,  and  required  them  to 
choose  deliberately  and  solemnly  the  service  of  the  God  of 
their  fathers  ;  or,  if  they  would  reject  that,  to  choose  whom 
they  would  serve.  The  question  was  to  whom  they  would 
render  supreme  allegiance,  and  that  question  they  were 
then  to  decide.  This  decision  Joshua  was  careful  should 
be  made  only  with  the  fullest  light.  He  not  only  told 
them  what  God  had  done,  but  also  that  he  was  a  holy 
God,  and  the  difficulty  of  his  service  on  that  account. 
They  heard,  they  understood,  and  decided  that  they  would 
serve  the  Lord.  ^'  And  the  people  said  unto  Joshua,  Nay, 
but  we  will  serve  the  Lord."  That  was  decisive  of  the 
histor}  of  that  generation.  So  far  as  the  choice  was  from 
the  heart  it  decided  the  influence  and  destiny  of  every 
individual  during  the  whole  course  of  his  being. 

In  this  transaction  with  the  Israelites  one  thing  was 
required  and  another  implied.  It  was  required  that  they 
should  choose  their  supreme  object  of  affection  and  wor- 
ship ;  it  was  implied,  that,  having  chosen,  they  would  serve 
him.      The  choice  was  to  be  made  once  and  forever;  the 


214  CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 

service  was  to  be  perpetual,  involving  volitions  and  acts 
constantly  repeated.  In  this  choice  and  these  volitions 
the  radical  character  of  the  Israelites  found  expression  ; 
in  a  similar  choice  and  the  consequent  volitions  our  char- 
acter will  do  the  same,  and  on  these  our  destiny  will  de- 
pend. Let  us  therefore  look  a  little  at  these  acts  of  choice 
and  of  volition,  as  they  are  in  themselves ;  as  related  to 
each  other;  and  to  human  character  and  well-being. 

Taking  then  the  act  of  choice,  I  observe,  in  the  first 
place,  that  we  must  choose. 

There  are  certain  original  and  necessary  forms  of 
activity  through  which  man  knows  himself.  These  are 
commonly  said  to  be  three — thinking,  feeling,  willing.  In 
reality  there  are  four,  thinking,  feeling,  choosing^  willing. 
These  were  never  taught  us.  They  are  not  the  product  of 
will.  We  do  not  think  because  we  will  to  think,  or  choose 
because  we  will  to  choose,  any  more  than  we  will  because 
we  will  to  will.  We  think  and  choose  and  will  by  a  neces- 
sity of  our  nature  immediately  and  directly  when  the  occa- 
sion arises.  These  forms  of  activity  we  find  originally  in 
us,  and  a  part  of  us  ;  they  go  back  with  us  to  our  first 
remembrance  and  conception  of  ourselves.  If  man  did 
not  find  in  himself  each  of  these  he  would  not  be  man. 
Free  we  may  be  in  choosing,  but  not  whether  we  will 
choose.  This  is  so  a  condition  of  our  being,  that  the  very 
refusal  to  choose  is  itself  choice. 

And  not  only  must  man  choose,  he  must  also  choose 
an  object  of  supreme  affection.  A  supreme  object  of  wor- 
ship, an  object  of  worship  at  all,  he  need  not  choose,  but 
of  affection  he  must. 

This  belongs  to  the  constitution  of  our  nature.  If  a 
man  were  compelled  to  part  with  the  objects  of  his  affec- 
tion one  by  one,  as  the  master  of  a  vessel  is  sometimes 
obliged  to  throw  overboard  his  cargo,  it  must  be  that  there 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  21 5 

would  be  a  last  thing  to  which  he  would  cling.  Without 
this  our  nature  could  have  neither  consistency  nor  dignity. 
In  this  the  great  masters  of  thought  agree,  and  through  it 
they  account  for  the  apparent  anomalies  of  human  con- 
duct. 

"  vSearch  then  the  master  passion — there  alone 
The  wild  are  constant  and  the  cunning  known." 

As  a  river,  if  it  be  a  river,  despite  backwater  and 
eddies,  must  flow  some  whither,  and  as  those  eddies  and 
the  backwater  are  caused  by  the  very  current  they  seem 
to  contradict,  so  must  there  be  in  man  some  current  of 
affection,  bearing  within  its  sweep  all  others,  and  that 
would,  if  known,  reconcile  all  seeming  contradictions.  In 
this  too  the  Scriptures  agree.  It  is  only  a  statement  in 
another  form  of  the  great  doctrine  announced  by  our 
Saviour,  that  in  the  moral  sphere  there  can  be  no  neutrality 
and  no  double  service.  "  He  that  is  not  with  me  is  against 
me."     "Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon." 

How  far  God  so  reveals  himself  to  each  man  as  he  did 
to  the  Israelites  that  there  must  be  a  distinct  acceptance 
or  rejection  of  him,  he  only  can  know,  but  every  being 
having  a  moral  constitution  must  be  either  in  harmony 
with,  or  in  opposition  to  the  great  principles  of  his  moral 
government,  and  thus  virtually  either  choose  or  reject  him. 

To  know  what  the  supreme  object  thus  chosen  and 
the  master  passion  is,  is  the  capital  point  in  the  most  diffi- 
cult and  valuable  of  all  knowledge,  the  knowledge  of  our- 
selves. Not  our  capacities  alone  do  we  need  to  know,  but 
the  set  and  force  of  that  current  within  us  which  is  deepest. 
But  what  the  object  thus  chosen  is,  or  even  that  he  does 
thus  choose,  a  man  may  not  distinctly  state  to  himself, 
and  it  may  come  out  into  clear  consciousness  only  as  he 
is  brought  to   a  test.     The  covetous  man  may  go   on  for 


2i6  CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 

years  amassing  property;  the  upas  tree  of  avarice  may 
grow  till  every  generous  affection  is  withered  beneath  it, 
and  yet  no  test  may  have  been  so  applied  as  to  compel  him 
to  say  to  himself,  "  I  am  a  miser."  He  may  not  even  sus- 
pect it.  If  told  the  truth  he  may  honestly,  in  one  sense 
honestly,  as  well  as  indignantly  and  reproachfully  deny 
it,  and  say  with  one  of  old,  "  Is  thy  servant  a  dog  that  he 
should  do  this  thing  ?  "  A  Christian  may  be  in  doubt 
whether  he  loves  God  supremely.  But  let  persecution 
come  and  demand  his  property,  and  that  will  be  one  test; 
let  it  demand  his  liberty,  that  will  be  another ;  let  it 
demand  his  life  to  be  given  up  through  reproach  and  tor- 
ture, and  that  will  be  a  third  and  a  final  test.  Then  will 
there  be  a  felt  ground  of  consistency  and  of  dignity.  The 
ship  will  right  itself  in  the  storm,  and  with  its  prow  toward 
its  haven,  the  fiercer  the  winds  the  faster  will  it  be  driven 
thither. 

But  while  we  are  thus  necessitated  to  choose,  and  to 
choose  an  object  of  supreme  affection,  the  choice  itself  is 
free.  There  is  always  in  it  an  alternative.  In  this  it  dif- 
fers from  all  that  precedes  it  either  in  nature  or  in  our- 
selves. Here  it  is  indeed  that  we  find  the  birth-place  and 
citadel  of  that  great  element  and  royal  prerogative.  Free- 
dom, which  underlies  all  moral  action  and  accountability. 
This  it  is  which  brings  us  into  ^a  moral  and  spiritual 
sphere  wholly  out  of  and  above  that  of  mere  nature.  The 
sphere  of  nature  has  for  its  characteristics  uniformity  and 
necessity,  but  here  is  freedom.  This  element  is  typified 
indeed,  and  foreshadowed  in  nature  through  all  her  forms 
of  unconscious  life.  Very  beautiful  it  is  to  see  a  multi- 
form life  working  spontaneously  toward  its  ends.  Won- 
derful is  that  selective  power  by  which  the  root  and  leaf 
of  each  vegetable,  and  the  sense  and  digestive  apparatus 
of  each  animal,  appropriate  that  which  will  build  up  the 
9* 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  21/ 

life  of  each,  and  reject  all  else.  But  here  is  no  freedom. 
And  the  same  may  be  said  of  all  that  precedes  choice  in 
our  own  life.  We  must  previously  have  knowledge,  but 
we  know  by  necessity.  No  man  can  help  knowing  his 
own  existence  and  acts  of  consciousness.  We  must  pre- 
viously have  desire.  Hunger  and  thirst,  the  desire  for 
food  and  drink,  are  necessary  ;  and  there  are  hungerings 
and  thirstings,  appetencies  and  cravings  so  running 
through  our  whole  nature  that  if  we  do  not  hunger  and 
thirst  after  righteousness  even,  we  cannot  be  filled.  But 
here  too  the  congruities  are  prearranged,  and  the  desire  is 
necessary.  As  such  it  has  a  wider  range  than  choice. 
We  desire  many  things  which  we  do  not  and  cannot 
choose.  We  desire  wealth,  position,  power ;  we  may 
desire  the  possession  of  the  stars,  or  of  universal  dominion, 
but  we  can  choose  only  that  which  is  offered  to  our  accept- 
ance. There  is  in  choice  appropriation,  and  the  thing 
chosen  must  be  in  such  a  relation  to  us  that  it  may,  in 
some  sense,  become  our  own. 

But  the  peculiarity  of  an  act  of  choice  is  that  there  is 
in  it  an  alternative.  This  belongs  to  its  definition.  There 
is  an  overlooking  of  the  whole  ground,  a  comparison,  and 
a  felt  power  of  turning  either  way.  We  must  indeed 
choose,  but  we  are  under  no  necessity  of  choosing  any  one 
thing.  When  but  a  single  object  is  offered  us  we  may 
choose  or  reject  it;  when  two  are  offered  both  of  which  we 
cannot  have,  as  learning  and  ease,  power  and  quiet,  plea- 
sure and  virtue,  we  may  choose  between  them.  Thus, 
through  the  whole  range  of  faculties  which  God  has  given 
us,  we  may  choose  which  shall  be  brought  into  predomi- 
nant activity;  and  through  the  whole  range  of  objects 
which  he  has  set  before  us,  including  himself,  we  may 
choose  which  we  will  appropriate  as  the  source  of  nutri- 
ment to  our  inmost  life. 


2l8  CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 

In  this  act  of  choice,  having  thus  an  alternative,  every 
man  so  stands  forth  to  his  own  consciousness  as  free,  that 
a  conviction  of  his  freedom  must  cling  to  that  conscious- 
ness forevermore.  The  freedom  is  so  a  part  of  the  act, 
and  enters  into  the  very  conception  of  it,  that  men  gene- 
rally would  as  soon  think  of  denying  the  act  itself  as 
of  denying  its  freedom.  No  man  can  honestly  deny  it. 
Hence,  as  being  known  at  once,  and  certainly,  just  as  is 
the  act  itself,  freedom  can  neither  be  proved  nor  disproved, 
but  must  be  accepted  on  the  immediate  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness. A  man  might  as  well  deny  the  fact  that  he 
exists,  as  to  deny  those  characteristics  of  his  being  which 
enter  into  his  conception  of  himself;  and  of  these,  free- 
dom of  choice  is  one.  "  We  lay  it  down,"  says  Dr.  Archi- 
bald Alexander,*  "  as  a  first  principle — from  which  we 
can  no  more  depart  than  from  the  consciousness  of  exist- 
ence— that  MAN  IS  free;  and  therefore  stand  ready  to 
embrace  whatever  is  fairly  included  in  the  definition  of 
freedom."  Let  the  few  then  impugn  as  they  may  this 
great  element  and  fact  of  freedom,  they  can  never  lead  the 
mass  of  men  to  disbelieve  it.  They  can  never  really 
disbelieve  it  themselves,  they  can  never  practically  dis- 
card it. 

And  this  leads  me  to  observe  that  as  freedom  finds  in 
an  act  of  choice  its  cradle,  so  does  it  also  its  citadel. 

Interfere  with  a  man  in  his  outward  acts,  restrain  him 
from  passing  the  limits  of  a  town,  shut  him  up  in  a  prison, 
fetter  his  limbs,  and  you  are  said  to  deprive  him  of  his 
freedom.  You  do  invade  it  in  its  outer  sphere,  and  in  the 
sense  in  which  it  is  generally  understood,  but  there  is  still 
a  freedom  which  you  do  not  and  cannot  touch.  There  is 
in  choice  an  activity  of  the  spirit  that  abides  wholly  within 
itself.     It  neither  requires  nor  admits  of  means,  or  instru- 

*  Mor^.l  Science,  p.  iii. 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  *  219 

mentalities,  or  outward  agencies.  Hence  no  power,  hu- 
man or  div'ne,  that  does  not  change  the  essential  nature 
of  the  spirit  itself,  can  reach  the  prerogatives  of  this 
power.  Here  is  the  inner  circle  of  freedom,  its  impreg- 
nable fortress.  Within  this,  man  is  a  crowned  king. 
Here,  though  but  a  beggar,  he  may  retire,  and  without  his 
own  consent,  no  man  can  take  his  diadem.  Retaining 
the  powers  which  make  it  what  it  is,  nothing  can  prevent 
the  spirit  from  choosing  and  willing,  from  loving  and  hat- 
ing, and  so  nothing  out  of  itself  can  prevent  it  from  being 
loyal  to  duty  and  to  God.  But  while  we  thus  claim  for 
man  full  powers  of  free  agency,  we  also  assert  the  power 
of  God  to  govern  free  agents  ;  and  the  necessity  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  to  quicken  and  regenerate  those  whose 
choice  of  evil  is  so  exclusive  and  intense  that  they  are 
"  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins." 

We  thus  see  what  choice  is.  But  the  Israelites  were 
not  only  to  choose,  they  were  to  serve.  By  distinct  and 
separate  acts  of  volition,  or  of  will,  they  were  to  cause  the 
choice  thus  made  to  find  expression  in  all  their  outward 
life.  Let  us  then,  as  was  proposed,  look  at  these  acts  of 
volition,  and  their  relations  to  choice. 

Almost  universally,  and  by  the  leading  philosophers, 
as  Kant  and  Hamilton,  choice  and  volition  have  been 
confounded  under  the  common  name  of  Will.  As  more 
immediately  connected  with  action,  volition  has  been 
made  the  more  prominent,  and  obscurity  and  sad  misap- 
prehension have  been  the  result.  But  not  only  are  choice 
and  volition,  or  an  act  of  the  will,  not  the  same,  they  are 
totally  different.     To  this  I  ask  special  attention. 

And  first,  choice  must  precede  volition.  No  man  can 
intelligently  will  an  act  except  with  reference  to  some 
object  previously  chosen. 

Secondly,  choice,  and  not  volition,  is  the  primary  seat 


220  CHOICE  AND  SERVICE. 

of  freedom.  In  a  sense  we  are  free  in  our  volitions. 
They  are  wholly  within  ourselves,  they  require  no  means 
or  instrumentalities,  and  no  earthly  power  can  interfere 
with  them  ;  but  yet  they  must  be  in  accordance  with  some 
choice  that  predominates  at  the  time,  and  can  be  changed 
only  by  a  change  of  the  choice.  But  are  not  men  com- 
pelled to  will  what  they  do  not  choose  ?  Not  strictly. 
By  force  unjustly  used  they  are  said  to  be  compelled  to 
will  what  they  would  not  but  for  that,  and  this  is  slavery ; 
still  the  will  will  be  in  accordance  with  the  choice  on  the 
whole,  else  a  man  could  not  become  a  martyr.  A  patriot, 
having  chosen  as  his  end,  and  with  his  whole  heart,  the 
good  of  his  country,  and  while  thus  choosing,  cannot  will 
acts  in  known  opposition  to  that  good.  He  may  die,  but 
he  cannot  do  that. 

Again,  choice  and  will  respect  different  objects.  In 
strictness,  we  never  choose  what  we  will,  or  will  what  we 
choose.  The  objects  of  choice  are  persons,  things,  ends. 
The  object  of  volition  is  an  act ;  always  an  act.  We 
choose  God,  we  choose  a  friend,  a  house,  a  profession,  an 
ultimate  end,  but  we  do  not  will  these.  To  say  that  we 
will  a  house  would  be  absurd.  We  choose  health,  we  will 
exercise  ;  we  choose  learning,  we  will  study  ;  we  choose 
an  apple  that  hangs  with  its  fellows  upon  the  bending 
bough,  we  will  the  act  by  which  we  pluck  it. 

And  as  the  objects  of  choice  are  different  from  those 
of  volition,  so  are  its  grounds.  We  choose  the  apple  be- 
cause it  is  good  ;  we  choose  a  friend  for  his  intrinsic  qual- 
ities ;  we  choose  an  end  as  good  in  itself  j  we  choose  God 
as  infinitely  excellent  in  himself,  and  as  meeting  through 
that  excellency  every  capacity  of  our  rational  being. 

Always  we  choose  an  object  for  something  in  itself— 
some  beauty,  some  utility,  some  grace,  some  excellence, 
by  which   it   awakens  emotion  or  desire,  and  comes   into 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  221 

some  relation  to  our  well-being.  But  an  action  we  never 
will  for  anything  in  itself,  but  only  as  it  is  related  to  an 
end.  An  action  tending  to  no  end  would  be  a  folly,  and 
one  abstractly  right  without  reference  to  an  end,  is  incon- 
ceivable. We  do  indeed  will  actions  as  right,  but  we 
mean  by  that,  sometimes  simply  their  fitness  to  gain  an 
end,  and  sometimes,  also,  that  the  end  is  good.  If  the  end 
be  good,  and  be  chosen  because  it  is  good,  the  action  will 
be  morally  right ;  if  not,  it  will  be  right  simply  from  its 
relation  to  the  end.  An  act  of  choice  is  itself  right  when 
the  true  end  for  man  is  chosen,  and  the  choice  is  made,  not 
merely  because  it  is  right,  but,  as  all  choice  must  be,  in 
view  of  some  good  in  the  end.  Universally,  then,  it  is 
true  that  we  choose  objects  and  ends  because  they  are 
good,  and  will  actions  because  they  tend  to  secure  such 
objects  and  ends. 

Once  more,  in  choice  man  is  not  executive,  in  volition 
he  is. 

We  think,  feel,  choose,  and  though  active  in  these,  are 
not  conscious  of  putting  forth  energy.  Every  one  knows 
the  difference  between  a  mere  choice,  or  even  purpose, 
and  that  putting  forth  of  energy,  by  which  we  attempt  to 
realize  our  purpose.  This  gives  a  new  element.  Before, 
the  man  was  contemplative,  choosing  an  end,  maturing 
plans  ;  now  he  is  executive,  working  for  an  end.  Choice 
and  purpose  are  known  in  themselves,  volition  by  its  ef- 
fects, and  what  these  may  be,  experience  only  can  reveal. 

Thus  at  all  points  do  we  find  a  difference  between 
choosing  and  serving,  that  is,  of  willing.  Choice  is  pri- 
mary— volition.secondary;  choice  is  directly  free — volition 
indirectly;  choice  respects  persons,  objects,  ends — volition 
acts  ;  choice  is  not  executive — volition  is  ;  choice  too  has 
the  common  relation  of  source  to  both  willing  and  loving  ; 
volition  is  not  a  source  at  all;  choice  fixes  on  ultimate  ends 


222  CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 

and  absolute  value,  which  is  a  good  and  not  a  utility.  The 
very  idea  of  utility  is  excluded  from  this  sphere.  A  Sys- 
tem of  Morals  based  on  the  choice  of  a  supreme  end  as 
good  in  itself,  cannot  be  one  of  utility.  In  choosing  the 
supreme  end  appointed  by  God  for  the  good  there  is  in 
it,  there  can  be  no  undue  reference  to  self.  If  this  had 
been  seen,  much  misapprehension  would  have  been  saved. 
Ultimate  ends  we  choose  for  the  sake  of  an  absolute 
value ;  a  utility  is  a  relative  value.  It  belongs  to  means 
and  instrumentalities,  to  volitions  and  acts  as  related  to 
ends. 

We  have  now  considered  choice  and  volition  as  they 
are  in  themselves,  and  as  related  to  each  other.  If  any 
one  should  say  that  these  points  are  too  elementary,  or,  if 
you  please,  metaphysical,  for  an  occasion  like  this,  I  should 
agree  with  him  if  their  connection  were  less  vital  with  hu- 
man character  and  well-being.  That  connection  it  remains 
for  us  to  consider. 

And  first,  I  observe  that  choice,  free  as  we  have  seen 
it  to  be,  is  the  radical  element  in  rational  love.  In  this 
is  the  difference  between  rational  and  instinctive  love.  I 
know  that  mere  emotion  has  stolen  the  name  of  love,  and 
that  the  impulsive  affections  have  been  made  identical  with 
the  heart.  I  know  that  there  are  affinities,  and  attractions, 
and  a  magnetism  between  persons  as  well  as  things,  that 
there  are  subtle  and  inexplicable  influences  by  which  in- 
dividuals are  strangely  drawn  together,  and  that  under  the 
domination  of  these  they  think  they  love.  And  so  they 
may ;  but  not  from  these  alone.  So  long  as  attractions 
are  balanced  by  defects  of  character,  or  incongruities  of 
temper,  so  long  as  there  is  a  parleying  between  the  better 
judgment  and  the  feelings,  and  while  as  yet  there  is  no 
ratifying  choice,  thei  e  is  no  rational  love.    Let  this  choice 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  223 

be  withheld,  and  however  emotion  may  eddy  and  surge,  it 
is  not  love,  and  in  time  it  will  die  away.  But  when  the 
deliberate  and  full  choice  is  made,  the  heart  is  given. 
Then  objections  become  impertinent,  imperfections  disap- 
pear, and  the  full  tide  of  emotion  flows  on,  tranquil,  it  may 
be,  but  deepening  and  widening.  Choice  is  not  emotion, 
nor  a  part  of  it,  but  it  opens  and  shuts  the  gate  for  its  flow. 
It  is  the  personality  determining  where  it  shall  bestow 
those  affections  that  are  its  life.  It  is  the  nucleus  of  a  train 
that  sets  the  spiritual  heavens  aglow.  Emotion  fluctuates  ; 
it  comes  and  goes  with  times  and  moods  and  health,  but 
love  is  constant,  and  this  is  the  constant  part  of  love.  It 
is  principle  as  opposed  to  emotion.  In  these  two — choice 
and  emotion — it  is  that  we  find  what  is  called  in  Scripture 
"  the  heart."  "  His  heart  is  fixed,"  says  the  Psalmist. 
There  is  the  choice  and  the  principle.  "  Trusting  in  the 
Lord ;  "  there  is  the  emotion.  The  heart  is  not  the  affec- 
tions regarded  simply  as  emotion ;  it  is  not  the  will  except 
as  will  and  choice  are  confounded.  It  is  the  affections, 
including  choice ;  born  of  choice  and  nurtured  by  it. 
Hence,  under  moral  government  the  heart  may  be  rightly 
subjected,  not  only  as  emotion,  to  indirect  regulation,  but 
as  choice,  to  direct  and  positive  command.  For  God  to 
say,  ''  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart,"  is  wholly  within  his 
prerogative  as  a  righteous  moral  Governor.  This  is  a  point 
of  the  utmost  moment,  and  often  but  imperfectly  appre- 
hended. 

Again,  if  choice  be  thus  an  element  of  love,  I  need 
hardly  say  that  it  must  determine  character. 

This  follows  because  the  character  is  as  the  paramount 
love.  If  this  be  of  money,  the  man  is  a  miser,  if  of  power, 
he  is  ambitious,  if  of  God,  he  is  a  religious  man.  It  is 
said  by  some  that  character  depends  on  the  governing 
purpose.     It  does  proximately,  but  purpose  depends  upon 


224  CHOICE  AND  SERVICE. 

choice.  We  first  choose,  then  purpose.  On  this,  too, 
depends  disposition,  so  far  as  it  is  moral.  A  supreme 
choice  is  the  permanent  disposing  by  a  man  of  himself,  in 
a  given  direction.  This  is  the  trunk  of  that  tree  spoken 
of  by  our  Saviour,  when  he  said,  *'  Make  the  tree  good, 
and  his  fruit  will  be  good."  From  this  will  flow  a  sap 
that  will  reach  the  remotest  twig  and  leaf  of  outward  ex- 
pression, and  give  its  flavor  to  every  particle  of  the  fruit. 
Such  a  choice  will  determine  not  only  the  disposition,  but 
the  subjects  of  thought,  the  habits  of  association,  the 
whole  furniture  of  the  mind.  Hence  those  expressions 
of  the  Bible,  "  the  thoughts  of  the  heart,"  "  the  imagi- 
nations of  the  heart,"  are  perfectly  philosophical. 
Thoughts,  imaginations,  fancies,  castle-buildings,  take 
their  whole  body  and  form  from  those  choices  and 
affections  which  are  the  heart.  These  come  and  go,  but 
they  swarm  out  as  bees  from  the  home  of  the  aflec- 
tions,  and  there  they  settle  again.  So  it  is  that  "  out  of 
the  heart  proceed  evil  thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  forni- 
cations, thefts,  false  witness,  blasphemies  ; "  and  so  it  is 
that  "out  oiit  are  the  issues  of  life."  But  it  is  in  these, 
as  thus  springing  from  the  heart,  that  character  is  ex- 
pressed, and  hence  it  is  that  the  heart,  having  its  nucleus 
and  salient  point  in  choice,  is  the  character. 

But  if  character  thus  depends  upon  choice,  then  the 
connection  of  choice  with  human  well-being  opens  at  once 
upon  us.  Under  a  moral  government — and  if  we  are  not 
under  that  we  can  have  no  hope  of  anything — if  we  are 
not  under  that  there  is  no  God — under  a  moral  govern- 
ment character  and  destiny  must  correspond.  Whatever 
apparent  and  temporary  discrepancies  there  may  be,  ulti- 
mately they  must  correspond.  That  they  should  do  this 
enters  into  the  very  conception  of  moral  government. 
Settle  it  therefore,  I  pray  you,  once  and  forever,  that  as 


CHOICE  AND  SERVICE.  22$ 

your  character  is,  so  will  your  destiny  be.     Whatever  ca- 
pacities there  may  be  for  enjoyment  or  for  suffering  m  this 
strange  being  of  ours,  and  God  only  knows  what  they  are, 
they  will  be  drawn  out  wholly  in  accordance  with  char- 
acter.    There  shall  be   no  inheritance  of  possessions,  or 
felicity  of  outward  condition,  no  river  of  life,  or  gate  of 
pearl,'or  street  of  gold,  there  there  shall  be  no  serenity  of 
peace,  or  fulness  of  joy,  or  height  of  rapture,  or  ecstasy 
of  love ;  there  shall  be  no  hostile  and  vengeful  element, 
no  lake  of  fire,  no  gnawing  worm,  no  remorse  or  despair, 
that  will  not  depend  upon  character.     It  is  by  their  bear- 
ing upon  this  that  we  are  to  test  every  claim  made  upon 
us"*  in  the  name  of  religion  for  outward  observance  and 
self-denial ;  and  we  are  to  sweep  away  as  superstitions  all 
forms  and  observances  that  do  not  tend  to  the  purification 
and  elevation  of  character,  because  it  is  this  alone  that 
bears  upon  destiny.     This  is  destiny. 

We  thus  see  the  amazing  import  and  responsibility 
attached  to  this  prerogative  of  choice.  As  we  are  active 
and  practical  it  is  the  one  distinguishing  prerogative  of 
our  being.  Entering  into  it,  not  as  that  which  we  viay 
do,  but  as  that  which  we  must  do,  it  is  so  a  part  of  our 
being  that  it  cannot  be  separated  from  us,  and  that  its 
responsibility  cannot  be  shared  by  another.  It  is  that  by 
which  we  make  ourselves  known  for  what  we  are.  It  is  by 
choice  only  that  our  proper  personality,  ourself,  acts  back 
upon  the  forces  that  act  upon  us.  As  an  original  primitive 
act,  admitting  no  use  of  means,  it  requires  no  one  to  teach 
us  how  to  choose ;  no  one  can  teach  us.  If  I  am  reqmred 
to  kindle  a  fire  I  can  be  taught  how,  because  means  must 
be  used,  and  there  must  be  a  process;  but  I  must  think 
and  choose  before  I  can  be  taught  how. 

As  a  moral  act  the  results  of  choice  are  immediate  and 
inevitable  because  it  is  in  that  that  morality  is.     Outward 


226  CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 

results  and  general  coniequences  will  depend  on  powers 
and  agencies  out  ol  ourselves,  but  this  is  wholly  between 
man  and  his  God,  and  reacts  upon  the  soul,  leaving  its  own 
impress  forever.  To  that  impress  all  things  outward  will 
come  to  correspond,  and  thus  it  is  that  maa  decides  his 
own  destiny.  His  destiny  is  as  his  choice,  and  his  choice 
is  his  own.  In  this,  not  alone  in  immortality — immortality 
without  this  would  be  but  the  duration  of  a  thing — in  this, 
crowned  by  immortality,  is  the  grandeur  of  our  being.  All 
below  us  is  driven  to  an  end  which  it  did  not  choose,  by 
forces  which  it  cannot  control.  But  for  us  there  are  mo- 
ments, oh,  how  solemn,  when  destiny  trembles  in  the  bal- 
ance, and  the  preponderance  of  either  scale  is  by  our  own 
choice.  Do  you  deny  this,  ye  who  speak  of  the  littleness 
and  weakness  of  man,  and  of  the  power  of  circumstances  ? 
Ye  who  scoff  at  freedom,  and  sneer  at  human  dignity,  and 
mock  at  the  strivings  of  a  poor  insect  limited  on  all  sides, 
and  swept  on  by  infinite  forces,  do  ye  deny  this  ?  Then 
do  you  deny  that  man  is  made  in  the  image  of  God.  You 
deny  that  he  can  serve  him.  You  destroy  the  paternal 
relation  of  the  Godhead,  you  blot  out  a  brighter  sun  than 
that  which  rules  these  visible  heavens.  If  God  is  to  be 
served  it  must  be  by  a  free  choice ;  by  a  free  choice  it 
must  be  if  his  service  is  to  be  rejected.  Other  service 
would  do  him  no  honor,  other  rejection  would  involve  no 
guilt.  Feeble  as  man  is,  and  we  admit  his  feebleness  ; 
limited  as  he  is,  and  we  admit  the  limitation,  it  has  yet 
pleased  God  to  endow  him  with  the  prerogative  of  choos- 
ing or  rejecting  Him  and  his  service.  Therefore  do  I  call 
upon  you,  every  one  of  you,  to  choose  this  day  whom  you 
will  serve.  I  call  upon  you  to  choose  God,  the  God  in 
whom  you  live  and  move  and  have  your  being,  the  God 
who  has  made  you,  and  redeemed  you,  and  would  sanctify 
you.     Him  I  call  upon  you  to  choose  and  to  serve  as  that 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  22/ 

service  is  revealed  in  the  Gospel  of  his  Son.  "  If  the  Lord 
be  God,  follow  Him,  and  if  Baal,  then  follow  him." 

Choice  and  service — these  were  demanded  of  the  Israel- 
ites, these  are  demanded  of  you;  these  only.  Choice  and 
service — in  these  are  the  whole  of  life,  and  heeding  prac- 
tically the  characteristics  belonging  to  each,  your  life  must 
be  a  success. 

To  choice  belongs  wisdom.  Here,  indeed,  and  in  the 
choice  of  ends  rather  than  of  means,  is  the  chief  sphere  of 
wisdom.  The  whole  of  wisdom  is  the  choice  and  pursuit  of 
the  best  ends  by  the  best  methods  and  means.  But  in  the 
choice  of  methods  and  means  to  secure  their  ends  "  the 
children  of  this  world  are  often  wiser  in  their  generation 
than  the  children  of  light."  The  difference  is  in  their 
choice  of  ends.  The  ends  of  the  children  of  this  world 
are  madness,  and  this,  in  the  eye  and  language  of  the 
Bible,  stamps  them  as  fools. 

But  while  wisdom  belongs  to  choice,  to  service  belong 
energy  and  firmness  tempered  by  skill.  You  will  be  care- 
ful here  not  to  mistake  for  energy  a  prevalent  reckless  and 
boastful  tendency  to  "  go  ahead,"  or  for  firmness,  a  dogged 
obstinacy  without  candor.  Indiscriminate  antagonism  is 
easy.  Denunciation,  indignant  or  sarcastic,  coarse  denun- 
ciation mistaking  elegance  for  sin,  is  easy.  By  these  a 
reputation  as  a  reformer  may  be  cheaply  gained.  But  to 
be  energetic  and  firm  where  principle  demands  it,  and 
tolerant  in  all  else,  is  not  easy.  It  is  not  easy  to  abhor 
wickedness  and  oppose  it  with  every  energy,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  have  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ, 
becoming  all  things  to  all  men  for  the  truth's  sake.  The 
energy  of  patience,  the  most  godlike  of  all,  is  not  easy. 

But  while  energy  is  to  be  tempered,  it  must  still  be 
energy,  and,  service  being  wisely  chosen,  failure  in  this  is 
your  chief  danger.     It  is  one  thing  to  make  a  choice  and 


228  CHOICE  AND   SERVICE. 

adopt  a  principle,  another  to  carry  it  out  fully,  wholly, 
entirely,  giving  it  all  its  scope.  It  is  one  thing  to  say,  and 
to  believe  that  "  all  men  are  born  free  and  equal,"  and 
another  to  give  to  four  millions  of  slaves  all  their  rights. 
Here,  I  repeat  it,  is  your  danger.  Here  it  was  that  the 
Israelites  failed.  Their  choice  was  right ;  their  resolution 
was  good  ;  they  promised  well,  but  they  failed  to  take 
full  possession  of  the  promised  land.  Will  you  fail  *'  after 
the  same  example  "  ?  Before  you,  as  there  was  before 
them,  there  is  a  promised  land ;  shall  I  not  say  there  are 
promised  lands,  to  be  possessed .?  There  is  outward  pros- 
perity and  honor  ;  there  is  the  inward  peace  that  comes 
from  well-doing ;  there  is  a  country  to  be  made  united, 
peaceful,  prosperous,  free,  wholly  free  ;  there  is  that  better 
time  coming  for  which  the  whole  world  waits  ;  there  is, 
above  all,  a  promised  land  beyond  the  dark  river.  All 
these  are  a  promised  land  to  you,  and  wait  with  more  or 
less  of  dependence  on  your  wisdom  and  energy.  They 
are  no  illusions.  Bright  as  any  or  all  of  them,  except  the 
first,  may  seem  to  you  to-day,  if  you  do  your  part,  the 
reality  will  be  brighter.  Always  the  realities  of  God  tran- 
scend the  imaginations  of  man.  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor 
ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the 
things  that  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him." 

Wisdom  and  energy — this  is  the  watch-word  that  I  would 
give  you  as  you  go  down  into  the  battle.  Do  any  of  you 
say,  we  have  not  wisdom  ?  I  say  to  you,  "  If  any  man 
lack  wisdom  let  him  ask  of  God  that  giveth  to  all  men 
liberally  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be  given  him." 
Do  you  say,  we  have  not  strength  ?  I  say  to  you,  "  Lo, 
He  is  strong,"  and  "  underneath  are  the  everlasting 
arms."  Guided  by  his  wisdom,  strong  in  his  strength, 
there  may  yet  be  for  you  struggle  and  suffering,  the  dark- 


CHOICE  AND   SERVICE.  229 

ness  and  the  storm.  "  The  disciple  is  not  above  his  Mas- 
ter." There  may  be  weeping  that  shall  endure  for  a  night, 
but  joy  shall  come  in  the  morning.  If  the  night  cometh, 
so  also  the  morning,  "  a  morning  without  clouds,"  the 
morning  of  an  eternal  day. 


XIII. 

PROVIDENCE   AND   REVELATION. 

C"^  OD  has  always  enforced  the  teachings  of  his  word  by 
T  his  providence.  When,  however,  as  in  these  grand 
times  in  which  we  hve,  he  does  this  signally,  it  becomes  us 
*'to  give  the  more  earnest  heed."  Especially  does  this 
become  those  who  are  just  entering  upon  life,  and  who 
hope  to  control  its  wider  and  higher  issues. 

Among  the  great  changes  wrought  within  the  last  four 
years,  is  a  wider  and  fuller  recognition  of  a  Divine  Provi- 
dence. So  apt  and  critical  have  been  the  conjunctures 
throughout  the  war,  so  evident  the  purpose  when  events 
have  lingered  and  when  they  have  hastened,  so  convergent 
seeming  opposites,  that  to  very  many  who  had  been  either 
thoughtless  or  skeptical,  the  hand  of  a  personal  God  work- 
ing out  his  high  purposes  through  fixed  laws  and  human 
agency  has  become  visible.  The  mass  of  the  people  have 
had  a  growing  conviction  that  God  was  dealing  with  this 
nation  in  a  special  manner,  as  with  Israel  of  old,  and  shap- 
ing events  for  moral  ends.  Nor  need  it  be  thought 
strange,  if,  as  the  providence  of  God  moves  toward  its 
consummation,  the  coincidence  between  it  and  his  word 
should  become  more  obtrusive  ;  if,  more  and  more,  there 
should  be  glimmerings  through  that  veil,  ere  long  to  be 
lifted,  which  separates  the  visible  from  the  invisible. 

***  July  30,  1865. 


PROVIDENCE   AND    REVELATION.  23 1 

Hence  I  ask,  on  this  occasion,  the  attention  of  this 
audience,  and  especially  of  the  Graduating  Class,  to  the 
summary  by  our  Saviour  of  the  second  table  of  the  Law, 
and  to  the  enforcement  of  its  teachings  in  our  day  by  the 
Providence  of  God. 

This  summary  will  be  found  in  the  2  2d  chapter  of  Mat- 
thew and  the  39th  verse 

"Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 

And  here,  with  the  lawyer  willing  to  justify  himself,  we 
inquire,  "And  who  is  my  neighbor?"  "And  Jesus  an- 
swering said,  A  certain  man  went  down  from  Jerusalem  to 
Jericho,  and  fell  among  thieves,  which  stripped  him  of  his 
raiment  and  wounded  him,  and  departed  leaving  him  half 
dead.  And  by  chance  there  came  down  a  certain  priest 
that  way  ;  and  when  he  sav/  him  he  passed  by  on  the  other 
side.  And  likewise  a  Levite,  when  he  was  at  the  place, 
came  and  looked  on  him,  and  passed  by  on  the  other  side. 
But  a  certain  Samaritan  as  he  journeyed  came  where  he 
was,  and  when  he  saw  him  he  had  compassion  on  him,  and 
went  to  him,  and  bound  up  his  wounds,  pouring  in  oil  and 
wine,  and  set  him  on  his  own  beast,  and  brought  him  to  an 
inn  and  took  care  of  him.  And  on  the  morrow,  when  he 
departed,  he  took  out  two  pence  and  gave  them  to  the 
host,  and  said  unto  him.  Take  care  of  him,  and  whatsoever 
thou  spendest  more,  when  I  come  again  I  will  repay  thee. 
Which  now  of  these  three,  thinkest  thou,  was  neighbor 
unto  him  that  fell  among  the  thieves  ?  And  he  said,  he 
that  showed  mercy  on  him.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  him, 
Go,  and  do  thou  likewise."  The  Samaritan  is  thy  neigh- 
bor— the  man  with  whom  "  the  Jews  had  no  dealings." 
The  man  of  all  others  on  the  face  of  the  earth  farthest 
removed  from  you  by  national  and  religious  prejudice  is 
thy  neighbor.     In  principle,   and  for  us,   the   answer   of 


V 


232  PROVIDENCE   AND    REVELATION. 

Christ  is,  that  whoever,  without  regard  to  nation,  or  race, 
or  color,  or  even  to  character,  shares  our  common  human- 
ity, and  can  be  reached  by  our  sympathies  and  kind  offices, 
is  our  neighbor. 

Of  this  neighborhood  the  basis  is  to  be  found,  not 
simply  in  a  community  of  nature,  but  of  such  a  nature. 
The  key-note  of  the  teachings  of  the  Bible  in  regard  to 
man,  and  of  God's  dealings  with  him,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  account  of  his  creation.  "  So  God  created  man  in  his 
own  image,  in  the  image  of  God  created  he  him."  Hence 
it  is  that  this  world  is  furnished  and  adorned  as  for  a  child. 
Hence  the  sacredness  of  human  life,  so  early  proclaimed  : 
"  Whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed  ;  for  in  the  image  of  God  created  he  hi7n''  Hence 
brotherhood  in  Christ,  and  a  common  heirship  with  him 
of  God.  Hence  the  worth  of  that  nature  which  makes 
rational  love  possible,  and  so  furnishes  a  ground  for  the 
command  of  the  text. 

Seeing  thus  who  our  neighbor  is,  and  the  ground  of  the 
command  of  the  text,  we  next  inquire  what  is  implied  in, 
and  what  is  meant  by,  loving  our  neighbor  as  ourselves. 

I  observe,  then,  that  in  loving  our  neighbor  as  our- 
selves, it  is  implied  that  we  do  and  should  love  ourselves. 
Some  seem  to  think  it  wrong  to  love  ourselves.  Not  so 
the  Bible.  That  gives  the  formula  of  human  duty  precisely 
right.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  This  takes  it  for 
granted  that  we  are  to  love  ourselves,  and  that  this  love  is 
to  be  the  measure  of  our  love  to  others.  This  is  indeed 
the  only  possible  starting  point ;  for  if  we  had  not  in  our- 
selves some  consciousness  of  the  worth  of  being  as  our  own, 
we  could  have  no  regard  for  it  in  others,  and  so  no  rational 
love. 

So  much  is  implied  in  this  love.  What  is  meant  ?    Not 


PROVIDENCE  AND    REVELATION.  233 

natural  affection.  The  difference  between  natural  and 
moral  affection  is  that  the  one  does  not,  and  the  other 
does,  involve  the  element  of  a  free  and  rational  choice. 
Moral  affection  has  its  basis  in  a  free  and  rational  choice, 
and  without  such  choice  it  cannot  be.  We  love  ourselves, 
according  to  the  command  of  the  text,  when  we  choose 
for  ourselves  the  end  for  which  God  made  us,  and  are 
willing  to  sacrifice  all  things,  even  life,  for  its  attainment. 
We  also  love  others  as  ourselves  when  we  choose  for  them 
the  end  for  which  God  made  them,  and  are  willing,  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit  of  Christ,  and  of  martyrs  and  missionaries, 
to  lay  dov/n  our  lives  that  they  may  attain  that  end. 

Of  this  love  the  demand  is  not,  as  some  say,  simply  to 
give  others  their  rights.  It  is  that,  that  first,  but  also 
more.  It  is  in  the  family,  self-sacrificing  kindness  ;  in  the 
State  it  is  patriotism;  in  the  world  it  is  philanthropy,  and 
in  the  church  it  is  missionary  zeal. 

This  law  of  God  is  styled  in  the  Scriptures  "  the  royal 
law. "  It  is  so.  As  a  law  for  the  regulation  of  society  it 
is  perfect ;  that  is,  from  its  observance,  and  from  that  only, 
a  perfect  state  of  society  would  result.  Let  all  the  mem- 
bers of  society  be  controlled  by  this  law,  and  co-operatio7i 
would  take  the  place  of  competitio7t.  This  would  revo- 
lutionize society.  There  could  be  no  intentional  injury, 
and  there  would  be  a  full  and  hearty  co-operation  by  each 
for  the  welfare  of  all.  Evils  there  might  be  from  other 
sources,  physical  evils,  but  there  is  no  institution,  or  form 
of  government,  or  arrangement  of  political  economy 
favorable  to  society  that  would  not  spring,  as  by  a 
divine  instinct  and  without  effort,  from  such  a  love,  and 
through  it  reach  its  highest  efficiency.  The  reason  of 
this  is  that  love  is  wisdom.  Always,  love  is  wisdom  and 
selfishness  is  folly.  Practically,  therefore,  it  is  the  same 
whether  men  are  governed  by  wisdom  or  by  love.    Hence, 


V 


234  PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION. 

in  all  governmental  and  social  arrangements,  and  in  politi- 
cal economy,  wisdom  will  consist  in  establishing  and 
sustaining  those  forms  of  government,  those  institutions 
and  methods  of  exchange  with  which  love  would  most 
naturally  clothe  itself,  and  through  which  it  could  best 
work.  Not  that  the  form  without  the  spirit  can  avail 
anything.  All  history  shows  that  it  cannot.  Nor,  on 
the  other  hand,  that  any  form  where  the  spirit  is,  is  to  be 
blindly  and  rabidly  attacked  ;  but  as  the  spirit  is  invisible 
and  intangible,  the  struggle  must  be  for  forms.  The  long 
battle  for  freedom,  which  is  only  another  name  for 
society  organized  in  the  spirit  of  the  text,  has  been  for 
its  forms.  And  so  it  must  be.  The  outward  contest 
must  be  for  forms ;  the  thing  needed  is  forms  moulded 
and  vitalized  by  the  spirit. 

But  to  this  spirit  of  love,  thus  beneficent,  there  is  an 
opposite.  It  is  the  spirit  of  selfishness,  becoming  when 
opposed,  domination  and  hate.  Protean  and  pervasive, 
this  spirit  has  been  everywhere  ;  but  its  great  organic  and 
permanent  forms  of  manifestation  have  been  three  : 

In  connection  with  government,  it  has  shown  itself  as 
despotism. 

In  connection  with  industry  and  social  relations,  as 
caste  J  and 

In  connection  with  races,  as  a  general  antagontsifi. 

In  connection  with  each  of  these,  or  with  them  in  com- 
bination, this  spirit  has  entrenched  itself,  it  would  almost 
seem,  impregnably.  Availing  itself  of  the  necessity  of 
government  and  of  labor,  it  has  divided  society  into 
permanent  strata  ;  with  surprising  art  it  has  balanced  the 
interests  of  class  against  class,  and  denying  the  possibility 
of  either  government  or  industry  under  free  forms,  it  has 
for  the  most  part,  ruled  the  world.  The  people  it  has 
despised  and  refused  to  trust  because  of  their  ignorance 


PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION.  235 

and  vice,  and  it  has  kept  them  in  ignorance  and  vice  lest  they 
should  become  worthy  of  being  respected  and  trusted. 

Now  what  we  claim  is,  that  God  has,  in  our  day, 
by  his  providence,  signally  rebuked  this  spirit  in  each  of 
its  great  organic  forms.  We  claim  that  he  has  set  the 
seal  of  his  approbation  to  free  forms  of  government  and 
of  social  organization  ;  that  he  has  vindicated  the  claims 
of  simple  humanity,  and  justified  to  its  utmost  limit  the 
broad  interpretation  given  by  our  Saviour  to  the  word 
"  neighbor." 

First,  then,  we  say  that  God  has  by  his  providence,  not 
incidentally,  but  distinctly  and  signally,  as  with  forecast 
and  method  and  by  a  prearranged  test,  set  the  seal  of  his 
approbation  to  that  free  form  of  government,  which,  as 
giving  men  all  their  rights,  is  the  natural  outgrowth  of  the 
spirit  of  the  text.  Evidently  he  has  been  repeating,  on  a 
larger  scale  and  under  new  conditions,  the  experiment 
that  was  tried  and  failed  three  thousand  years  ago.  God 
then  established  for  the  Israelites  a  free  commonwealth. 
Under  himself  this  was  a  government  by  the  people,  for 
the  people.  When  they  desired  a  king,  he  regarded  it  as  a 
rejection  of  himself,  and  foretold  the  servitude  that  would 
follow.  "They  have  not,"  said  he  to  Samuel,  "rejected 
thee,  but  they  have  rejected  me,  that  I  should  not  reign 
over  them."  A  commonwealth  is  virtually  the  reign  of 
God,  because  it  is  possible  only  as  the  lav/s  of  God  are 
voluntarily  accepted  up  to  that  point  which  will  give  it 
stability.  But  the  people  were  unfit  for  freedom.  Servitude 
followed,  and  from  that  time  till  this  freedom  has  been 
militant.  It  has  been  regarded  askance,  and  persecuted 
as  opposed  to  Law  and  Order.  Law  and  Order  !  Names 
venerable  and  sacred  !  Ordained  of  God  !  and  yet  of  no 
avail  except  as  guards  and  channels  of  a  rational  freedom. 


236  PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION. 

For  such  a  freedom — a  freedom  not  to  do  wrong,  but 
to  enjoy  every  right — there  was  no  congenial  home  in  the 
old  world.  Kingcraft,  priestcraft,  feudalism,  caste,  had 
everywhere  entwined  their  roots,  and  no  garden  of  free- 
dom could  be  planted  where  offshoots  from  these  were 
not  ready  to  spring  up.  Then  it  was  that  God  lifted  this 
western  continent  above  the  horizon,  and  brought  hither 
those  whose  central  idea  was  a  religious  commonwealth. 
To  that  movement,  having  its  remote  origin  in  Judea,  but 
for  us  in  the  Mayflower,  attention  was  more  and  more 
drawn,  because  it  came  to  be  felt  that  the  experiment  of 
liberty  for  the  world  was  to  be  made  here.  If  not  here, 
where  ?  Here  it  had  a  fair  beginning.  Here  was  a  free 
Christianity.  The  complications  and  impediments  of  the 
old  world  had  been  left  behind.  If  men  could  not  have 
here  a  government  of  the  people  strong  enough  for  secur- 
ity and  not  too  strong  for  liberty,  where  could  they  ? 
Then  came  the  long  colonial  probation,  the  Revolution, 
the  Union.  This  seemed  a  success,  but  till  the  rebellion, 
neither  we,  nor  those  across  the  water  who  wished  us  well, 
nor  those  who  feared  and  hated  us,  had  ceased  to  call  our 
government  an  experiment.  It  was  that, — made  so  mainly 
through  malign  influences,  which,  it  did  seem,  need  not 
have  come  in,  but  which  were  in  and  had  to  be  ac- 
cepted. 

If  now  it  had  been  the  purpose  of  God  to  apply,  at 
this  juncture,  a  decisive  test  to  our  government,  I  ask 
whether  one  more  perfect  could  have  been  conceived.  Is 
there  an  element  of  stress  and  pressure  that  could  be 
brought  to  bear  on  any  government  that  was  not  brought 
to  bear  upon  ours.  Confessedly  there  was  a  stress  upon 
it  which  no  other  government  could  have  borne.  Upon 
a  people,  all  whose  habits  and  interests  and  tastes  were 
those  of  peace,  there  was  suddenly  sprung  a  war,  and  not 


PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION.  237 

merely  that,  but  a  civil  war,  and  one  unprecedented  in  its 
gigantic  proportions.  Then,  at  a  moment,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances of  the  greatest  disadvantage,  came  the  call  for 
men,  and  they  went.  It  came  for  more,  and  more,  "  six 
hundred  thousand  more ; "  and  the  men  were  ready. 
Next,  and  to  a  people  always  charged  with  loving  money 
overmuch,  came  the  call  for  money  ;  and  the  money  was 
ready.  Taxes  came  in  new  forms,  but  not  only  were  they 
paid,  the  people  were  clamorous  for  them.  Money  was 
poured  out  like  water,  and  as  never  before,  for  bounties, 
as  a  loan  to  the  government,  for  the  Sanitary  and  Chris- 
tian Commissions,  for  the  refugees  and  the  freedmen. 
Meantime  battles  were  disastrous ;  faint-heartedness 
and  even  treason  were  not  wanting  at  the  North  ;  our 
English  friends  pronounced  our  cause  hopeless,  and  did 
what  they  could  to  make  it  so  ;  homes  were  desolated  ; 
the  wounded  and  maimed  walked  our  streets,  and  the 
sickening  wail  of  exposure  and  starvation  came  up  from 
Southern  prisons.  In  the  midst  of  all  this  came  a  new 
and  unheard-of  trial — the  popular  election  of  a  chief-magis- 
trate by  a  great  nation  in  time  of  civil  war.  How  solemn, 
how  grand,  how  quiet,  how  decisive  was  that  day  !  It 
was  the  noblest  triumph  of  the  war — its  turning-point — 
the  turning-point  in  the  destiny  of  the  country.  Then 
came  that  second  Inaugural,  and  the  final  campaign. 
After  four  years  of  hope  deferred.  President  Lincoln 
walked  the  streets  of  Richmond,  and  the  old  flag  was  re- 
placed upon  Sumter. 

And  was  not  this  enough  ?  No.  The  very  day  that 
flag  was  raised,  the  Head  of  the  nation,  beloved,  revered, 
trusted,  rested  on  in  that  critical  moment  of  transition,  was 
smitten  down  by  assassination.  This  was  the  final  trial. 
Was  a  greater  possible  ?  In  most  nations  such  an  event 
would  have  been  the  signal  for  convulsions,  if  not  for  a 


238  PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION. 

revolution.  Here,  with  the  exception  of  the  universal 
grief  and  indignation,  everything  went  on  as  usual.  The 
government  did  not  reel  for  a  moment.  No  interest  re- 
ceived a  shock.  Vast  as  was  the  country,  heterogeneous 
as  was  the  population,  yet  so  organized  and  compacted 
had  the  institutions  of  freedom  become  that  no  one  man 
could  be  essential  to  them.  The  world  had  seen  nothing 
like  this.  The  experiment  of  freedom  was  made  ;  it  was 
an  experiment  no  longer. 

We  now  pass  to  caste,  or  permanent  classes,  the  second 
organic  form  in  which  the  spirit  opposed  to  that  of  the 
text  has  shown  itself. 

The  spirit  of  the  text  requires  that  every  man  shall  be 
regarded  for  what  he  is  as  a  man,  and  that  no  one  shall  be 
debarred  by  artificial  and  arbitrary  arrangements  from  any 
employment  or  position.  But  in  some  countries,  as  in 
India,  besides  a  permanent  governing  class,  society  has 
been  so  organized  with  reference  to  all  occupations  as  to 
hold  the  laboring  classes  in  complete  subjection  for  ages. 
In  most  countries  in  Europe,  and  particularly  in  England, 
much  of  this  runs  through  the  structure  of  society.  This, 
free  institutions  cannot  allow  in  form,  but  the  spirit  of  it 
lingered  in  our  society,  and  was  fast  becoming  a  ruling 
element  at  the  South.  Moreover  there  grow  up  in  artificial 
society  distinctions  from  wealth,  culture,  manners,  con- 
ventionalism, that  by  an  infusion  of  the  same  spirit,  inter- 
fere with  a  broad  and  fair  recognition  of  simple  manhood 
in  whatever  form  it  may  appear.  It  was  to  correct 
this  narrowing  tendency  and  give  humanity  as  such  its 
true  place,  that  Christ  came  as  he  did,  clothed  with  that 
only.  He  was  "found"  simply  *'in  fashion  as  man''; 
and  that  fact  has  done,  and  will  do,  more  to  break  up  this 
spirit  than  all  things  else. 


PROVIDENCE   AND   REVELATION.  239 

Not  a  little  had  this  spirit  to  do  with  fostering  the 
rebellion,  both  at  the  South  and  at  the  North.  That 
word  "  mudsills  "  meant  much.  If  Abraham  Lincoln  was 
not  one  of  these,  he  had  been.  Humble  in  his  origin,  in 
his  early  occupations,  associations  and  advantages,  he  was 
ungainly  in  person,  awkward  in  manners,  and  homely  in 
speech.  He  had  no  elegance  of  literature,  no  foreign 
travel,  no  arts  of  diplomacy,  no  drawing-room  accomplish- 
ments. If  there  was  ever  a  man  who  came  up  out  of  the 
soil  and  had  the  odor  of  it,  it  was  he.  He  had  nothing 
splendid  or  striking  about  him,  and  it  was  especially  said 
that  he  lacked  the  heroic  element.  Unspeakable  was  the 
contempt  with  which  he  was  regarded  in  aristocratic  and 
fashionable  circles.  There  were  whole  classes  at  the  South, 
and  many  individuals  at  the  North,  who  could  not  abide 
institutions  that  could  bring  such  a  man  into  such  a  posi- 
tion. Their  taste  was  outraged.  He  would  disgrace  us 
in  the  eyes  of  those  who  had  seen  foreign  courts. 

How,  now,  might  this  narrow  and  supercilious  spirit  be 
providentially  and  most  effectively  rebuked  ?  How  could  it 
be  but  by  taking  just  such  a  man,  and  despite  these  imper- 
fections and  disadvantages,  which  we  confess  and  pro- 
claim them  to  be,  by  lifting  him  up  into  our  political 
heavens,  revealing  gradually  as  he  should  rise  an  orb  of 
manhood  so  grand  and  so  bright  that  these  spots  should 
disappear,  and  till  he  should  take  his  place  in  the  hearts 
of  his  countrymen  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  by  the  side 
of  Washington  himself?  This  has  been  done.  Made 
President  of  the  United  States  at  the  most  critical  period 
of  our  history,  by  his  thorough  honesty,  by  his  singleness 
of  purpose  to  uphold  the  Constitution  and  save  the  Union, 
by  a  common  sense  that  became  to  him  an  instinct  of 
statesmanship,  by  the  even  balance  of  his  conservative  and 
progressive    tendencies,    caution    predominating ;    by  his 


240  PROVIDENCE  AND    REVELATION. 

firmness  in  holding  his  positions  when  he  made  those 
grand  steps  onward  ;  by  the  simpHcity  of  his  character, 
free  from  all  affectation  and  pretence  and  egotism  ;  by  the 
fitness  and  weight  of  his  words  on  great  occasions  ;  by  his 
gentleness  and  tenderness  ;  by  his  reverent  recognition  of 
God  and  of  Christianity,  he  won  his  way  to  the  hearts  of 
the  people  as  no  other  man  had.  On  his  second  nomina- 
tion the  old  feeling  lingered.  Many  opposed  him.  More 
would  have  done  so  if  they  could  with  hope.  But  the  in- 
stinct of  the  people  was  right.  Widows  and  mothers 
blessed  him.  Three  milHons  of  people  hailed  him  as  their 
emancipator.  The  nation  trusted  him  wholly.  They 
rested  on  him  as  with  a  filial  feeling,  and  when  he  died  the 
continent  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  was  draped  in 
such  a  mourning  as  the  sun  had  never  looked  down  upon. 
The  lesson  of  such  an  elevation,  and  the  elements  of  just 
such  a  character,  were  needed  in  the  new  life  of  the  nation. 
Henceforth  his  character  will  blend  with  that  of  Washing- 
ton in  its  moulding  influence  on  the  times  to  come. 

Nor  in  all  this  do  we  see  anything  that  could  lead  us  to 
undervalue  culture,  or  that  would  encourage  any  manifes- 
tation of  coarseness.  Abraham  Lincoln  had  nothing  of 
this.  We  see  simply  the  diffusive  power  of  culture  under 
free  institutions,  opening  up  to  the  humblest,  avenues  to 
distinction  ;  and  an  assertion  of  the  paramount  worth  of 
those  sterling  qualities  that  belong  to  a  true  manhood  as 
compared  with  all  that  is  artificial  and  adventitious.  This 
paramount  worth  it  is  that  God  has  providentially  vindicat- 
ed, together  with  the  right  of  all  who  possess  it  to  means 
for  its  increase  and  a  fair  opportunity  for  its  recognition. 

We  next  consider  the  third  form  in  which  the  spirit 
oi)posed  to  that  of  the  text  has  manifested  itself.  This  has 
been  in  connection  with  races. 


PROVIDENCE   AND   REVELATION.  24I 

The  division  of  men  of  the  same  race  into  permanent 
governing  and  laboring  classes  is  artificial  and  horizontal  ; 
the  division  into  races  is  natural  and  vertical.  How  far, 
or  whether  at  all,  such  a  division  should  be  a  bar  to  inter- 
marriage, or  to  any  form  of  social  intercourse,  does  not 
now  concern  us.  Other  races  are  our  neighbor,  and  no 
less  than  our  own,  are  to  be  loved  as  ourselves.  We 
are  bound  to  give  them  every  right,  and  to  seek  their 
good.  But  instead  of  this,  difference  of  race  has  been 
the  occasion  of  prejudice,  contempt,  oppression,  and  of  the 
most  bitter  and  long-continued  hostilities.  But  for  this 
the  English  and  French  would  not  have  been  called  natu- 
ral enemies.  But  for  this  the  nationalities  of  Europe 
might  coalesce.  The  great  wars  have  been  those  of 
races. 

In  this  country  we  had  made,  in  this,  a  great  step  on- 
ward. Not  only  all  religions,  but,  with  a  single  exception, 
all  nationalities  and  races  were  received  on  an  equal  foot- 
ing. But  that  exception  was  so  flagrant,  and  so  opposed 
to  our  avowed  principles,  as  to  draw  to  it  universal  atten- 
tion. Nor  was  race  alone  in  question.  There  was 
color  ;  and  both  were  combined  with  caste  intensified  into 
the  form  of  chattel  slavery.  Here,  then,  was  a  fortress 
with  a  triple  line  of  defence.  The  institution,  too,  had 
prestige  as  transmitted.  It  was  so  incorporated  with  the 
industry  and  supposed  interests  of  the  South  ;  was  so 
allied  to  the  spirit  of  caste  both  abroad  and  at  the  North  ; 
was  so  supported  by  prejudice  and  pride  and  indolence ; 
was  so  an  element  of  politics,  and  so  claimed  by  the 
churches  as  a  divine  institution,  that  its  removal  seemed 
hopeless.  Ah !  if  the  rights  of  the  black  man  had  never 
been  violated,  how  simple  the  problems  of  our  society 
would  have  been.  If,  having  been  violated,  we  had  heeded 
the  law  of  the  text,  how  facile  and  bloodless  the  remedy  ? 


242  PROVIDENCE  AND    REVELATION. 

But  no  ;  there  stood  the  fortress  growing  more  and  more 
defiant  and  insolent. 

But  if  the  hand  of  God  had  been  unmistakable  in  re- 
buking the  spirit  opposed  to  that  of  the  text  in  the  forms 
already  mentioned,  it  has  been  still  more  so  in  this.  Not 
more  conspicuous  was  it  in  leading  the  children  of  Israel 
out  of  Egypt.  The  destruction  of  slavery  within  four 
years  is  a  moral  miracle.  Many  present  will  remember 
when  the  first  haze  from  this  sea  of  death  began  to  spread 
itself  in  our  political  sky,  and  how  from  that  time  the 
heavens  continued  to  grow  darker.  Compromise  availed 
nothing.  Attempted  suppression  of  petitions  and  of  dis- 
cussion availed  nothing.  The  negro  was  passive,  quietly 
at  work  among  the  rice  and  the  cotton,  the  sugar  and  the 
tobacco,  but  he  was  everywhere.  You  all  remember  how 
inevitable  he  became.  Was  there  a  political  or  ecclesi- 
astical convention  anywhere  from  Maine  to  Texas,  he  was 
there.  No  threats  and  no  coaxing  could  keep  him  out. 
He  was  in  every  railroad  car  and  steamboat,  and  bar- 
room. Were  two  excited  men  talking  at  the  corner  of  the 
street,  you  might  be  sure  he  was  there.  It  was  he  that 
put  the  President  in  the  White  House,  and  the  Speaker  of 
the  House  of  Representatives  in  his  chair.  He  unsettled 
ministers,  broke  up  churches,  perplexed  the  action  of 
religious  societies,  and  rent  asunder  great  denominations 
of  Christians.  He  was  in  the  struggles  of  Kansas,  and 
when  ruffianism  and  treason  showed  themselves  in  the 
Senate  Chamber  he  was  not  far  off. 

Then  came  the  first  gun,  the  great  uprising,  the  tramp 
of  armed  men,  the  19th  of  April,  the  War.  Nobody 
wanted  it,  everybody  dreaded  it,  but  majestic,  resistless, 
as  when  God  flings  out  the  banner  of  the  storm  and  bids 
it  move,  it  swept  on.  No  man  guided  it,  no  man  could 
foretell  its  duration  or  issues.      So  tumultuous  and  per- 


PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION.  243 

plexed  were  the  movements,  that  the  avowed  and  wise 
policy  of  the  President  was  to  have  no  policy,  but  simply 
an  end  sought  as  wisdom  might  be  given  moment  by 
moment.  It  came  to  that,  that  all  that  men  knew  was 
that  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  fight  on.  And  they 
did  fight.  And  Oh  !  the  agony  of  those  days  !  ^'  We 
waited  for  light,  but  behold  obscurity  ;  for  brightness,  but 
we  walked  in  darkness."  We  cried  out,  ^'  O,  thou  sword 
of  the  Lord,  how  long  will  it  be  ere  thou  be  quiet ;  put 
thyself  up  into  thy  scabbard,  rest  and  be  still."  But  the 
voice  came,  "  How  can  it  be  quiet  seeing  the  Lord  hath 
given  it  a  charge  ?"  And  what  that  charge  was,  those  who 
watched  began  after  a  time  to  discover.  It  was,  first,  to 
lift  the  negro  up  into  manhood  by  bringing  him  into  line 
with  the  white  man  in  fighting  the  battles  of  freedom. 
We  all  know  how  this  was  resisted  and  scoffed  at.  It  could 
not  be.  But  the  pressure  did  not  lift  ;  it  waxed  heavier 
and  heavier  and  it  was  done.  The  negro  fought  and  was 
welcomed.  A  second  charge  was  to  make  the  Proclamation 
of  Emancipation,  ridiculed  as  the  Pope's  bull  against  the 
comet,  to  make  that  as  the  breath  of  the  Almighty  to 
sweep  away  slavery.  That  was  done.  Again,  the  charge 
was  to  bring  the  South,  the  chivalry,  to  recognize  by  public 
act  the  manhood  of  the  negro  by  making  him  a  soldier, 
and  by  confessing  the  dependence  of  their  cause  upon 
him.  This  was  all ;  it  was  enough.  When  this  v/as  done, 
the  war  ceased. 

And  now,  I  put  it  to  you,  if  the  antagonism  of  races, 
intensified  by  caste  and  by  color,  was  to  be  providentially 
rebuked,  could  it  have  been  done  more  signally  or  more 
effectually  ? 

Of  the  three  forms  of  providential  testimony  now  pre- 
sented, each  is  distinct  and  emphatic.  There  is  another, 
and  carried  out  too  with  the  same  completeness.     Slavery 


244  PROVIDENCE  AND    REVELATION. 

may  stand  as  the  type  and  culmination  of  all  oppressive 
systems,  and  the  testimony  consists  in  a  manifestation  of 
its  legitimate  and  matured  fruits. 

Till  our  armies  went  South,  and  Southern  prisoners 
came  North,  there  was  but  a  slight  impression  among  us 
of  the  general  ignorance  under  such  a  system — of  the 
number  who  could  not  read  or  sign  their  names.  But  for 
this  ignorance  there  could  have  been  no  rebellion.  There 
had  been  no  adequate  conception  of  the  want  of  thrift 
and  general  behindhandedness,  nor  of  the  pervading 
spirit,  at  once  of  license  and  of  despotism.  What  were 
called  the  abuses  of  the  system  were  more  frequent  and 
foul  than  had  been  supposed.  But  these  are  little,  com- 
pared with  the  spirit  of  the  system  as  revealed,  First,  by 
atrocities  in  the  treatment  of  Southern  Union  men,  not 
exceeded  by  anything  in  the  Sepoy  rebellion  ;  second,  by 
the  massacre  at  Fort  Pillow,  intended  to  be  the  inaugura- 
tion of  a  policy;  third,  by  preparations  to  blow  up  Libby 
prison  ;  fourth,  by  the  deliberate,  systematic,  long  con- 
tinued exposure,  neglect  and  starvation  of  Union  pris- 
oners ;  and  finally,  by  the  assassination  of  the  President. 
These  things  we  do  not  charge  to  all  the  people  of  the 
South.  They  are  like  other  men.  Many  are  better  than 
their  system.  But  we  do  charge  them  to  the  spirit  of  the 
system  ;  and  we  say  that  by  these  exposures  and  revela- 
tions, culminating  as  they  did  in  a  way  to  send  a  thrill  of 
horror  through  the  civilized  world,  God  has  pilloried  the 
system  before  the  nations,  and  all  that  has  affinity  with  it. 

That  there  were  atrocities  on  our  side  we  do  not  deny 
They  are  incident  to  war.  But  we  do  deny  anything  that 
can  be  at  all  an  offset  to  such  a  record.  It  is  to  be  said 
further  on  the  part  of  the  North  that  the  war  was  carried 
on  here  chiefly  without  proscription,  and  that  in  connec- 
tion with  it  there  were  the  Sanitary  and  Christian  Com- 


PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION.  245 

missions,  that  furnished  by  voluntary  contribution  mill- 
ions for  the  aid  of  wounded  and  sick  soldiers,  to  be  ap- 
plied equally,  so  far  as  might  be,  to  friend  and  foe.  Any 
thing  like  these,  in  connection  with  war,  no  institutions  or 
form  of  government  had  ever  before  developed. 

I  have  thus  presented  four  simultaneous  processes  in- 
dicating a  providential  testimony  in  favor  of  free  insti- 
tutions and  of  equal  rights,  both  for  all  classes  of  the  same 
race  and  for  all  races.  If  any  one  of  these  had  been  con- 
trived by  man  for  this  express  purpose,  could  it  have  been 
more  elaborate,  I  had  almost  said  artificial  and  dramatic  ? 
But  when  we  see  them  combined  as  these  have  been,  all 
bearing  virtually  on  this  one  point  of  loving  our  neighbor 
as  ourselves,  and  in  connection  with  events  that  have  so 
lifted  them  up  to  the  gaze  of  the  world,  we  cannot  doubt 
the  presence  of  a  divine  hand.  It  is  the  providence  of 
God  enforcing  his  word. 

Possibly  we  may  now  find  some  explanation  of  the 
presence  and  condition  of  the  negro  in  this  land.  Who 
has  not  wondered  that  these  have  been  permitted  ?  Who 
has  not  felt  irritated  that  there  should  be  such  an  obstacle 
to  the  facile  working  of  our  principles  and  institutions  ? 
But  in  no  other  way  could  the  broad  requisitions  of  the 
gospel  have  been  so  interpreted  to  us,  and  so  enforced 
upon  us.  Race,  color,  caste,  interest — all  were  needed 
for  the  fullest  possible  test  of  those  requisitions.  The 
negro  in  Africa  it  would  have  been  an  easy  thing  to  love 
as  ourselves.  But  to  take  him  by  the  hand  here,  and  lift 
him  up  into  the  enjoyment  in  all  respects  of  equal  rights 
with  ourselves  is  quite  another  thing.  This  we  were  not 
prepared  to  do,  and  it  was  needful  that  this  very  race,  the 
farthest  of  all  removed  from  us  in  physical,  and  if  you 
please,  in  mental  characteristics,  should  so  become  pas- 


246  PROVIDENCE   AND   REVELATION. 

sively  an  obstruction  and  a  clog  in  the  working  of  our  polit- 
ical and  ecclesiastical  machinery,  as  to  compel  us  to  see 
the  difference  between  an  abstract  profession  of  principles 
and  their  practical  application.  We  needed  to  learn  what 
that  meaneth,  "  I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice,"  and 
to  be  made  to  know  how  any  failure  to  carry  out  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  text  must  work  its  own  retribution.  May  the  fu- 
ture show  that  this  nation  has  learned  the  lesson  thus  taught 
of  God.    If  not,  we  may  be  sure  that  retribution  will  come. 

In  view  of  the  providences  above-mentioned  as  bearing 
on  the  text,  let  me  inquire  of  you,  my  Dear  Friends  of 
the  Graduating  Class,  whether  the  second  table  of  the 
law  has  its  true  relative  place  in  your  minds.  Has  it  in 
the  mind  of  the  religious  public  of  this  land  ?  That  place 
it  has  not  always  had.  There  has  been  a  one-sided 
piety.  Duties  toward  God  have  been  emphasized  while 
those  towards  men  have  been  slighted.  There  has  been 
something  calling  itself  piety  that  has  been  dissociated,  not 
merely  from  beneficence,  but  from  kindliness  and  honor, 
and  a  high  morality.  Of  all  caricatures  of  the  religion  of 
Christ  none  is  more  repulsive  than  a  combination  of  high 
pretension  to  piety  with  a  narrowness  and  meanness  bor- 
dering on  dishonesty.  From  such  a  type  of  piety  the 
natural  recoil  has  been  to  mere  philanthropy.  This,  if  less 
repulsive,  is  hardly  less  mischievous.  Having  no  root  in 
the  love  of  God,  it  runs  into  sentimentalism  and  self-seek- 
ing and  even  into  malignity.  There  is  nothing  sourer  than 
a  soured  philanthropist.  The  second  table  of  the  law  has 
no  power  without  the  first.  That  must  stand  in  its  grand 
pre-eminence.  Its  summary  is,  and  must  be,  "  the  first 
and  great  commandment."  But  the  second  is  like  unto 
it,  and  every  failure  to  carry  out  its  principles  fully,  is  a 
failure  in  one  of  the  highest  forms  of  a  rational  piety. 


PROVIDENCE  AND   REVELATION.  247 

Let  me,  then,  especially  commend  to  you  at  this  time 
the  love  of  your  fellow-men.  Take  for  your  motto, 
Love  is  Wisdom.  Always  love  is  wisdom.  Rational  love 
is  the  central,  plastic,  unconsciously  organizing  and  ad- 
justing force  of  a  rational  society,  as  natural  law  and  in- 
stinct are  of  the  inanimate  and  animal  creation.  Hold 
on,  I  entreat  you,  to  this.  Abide  steadfast  in  it,  and  you 
shall  be  the  men  needed  for  these  times.  You  shall 
work  with  the  providence  of  God. 

It  has,  my  friends,  been  one  result  of  our  studies  the 
past  year  to  bring  the  teachings  of  the  human  constitu- 
tion into  harmony  with  the  revealed  law  of  God.  To- 
day I  close  my  instructions  to  you  by  seeking  to  show 
you  the  harmony  of  the  Providence  of  God  with  the 
second  table  of  that  law.  In  their  relations  to  the  well- 
being  of  the  individual,  and  of  society,  the  two  tables  are 
very  different.  For  the  individual,  the  great  good  must 
be  from  conformity  to  the  first  table,  that  is,  from  love 
to  God.  That  fits  us  for  heaven.  But  for  the  com- 
munity, that  good  must  be  from  conformity  to  the  second 
table,  that  is,  from  love  to  man.  Whether  God  providen- 
tially favors  piety,  as  such,  may  be  doubted.  It  was, 
in  the  time  of  Job,  and  has  been  since.  But  in  giving 
men  rights  he  has  pledged  himself  to  favor  those  forms  of 
society  in  which  such  rights  are  conceded.  This  he  does 
in  the  long  lines  of  his  providence,  because  natural  rights 
tend  to  their  own  vindication  and  enjoyment  with  the  con- 
stancy of  natural  law,  and  till  they  are  conceded  society 
cannot  be  in  a  state  of  stable  equilibrium.  Whatever  may 
be  said  of  the  first  table  of  the  law,  I  hold  it  to  be  demon- 
strable that  the  second  table  is  the  only  law  of  a  stable 
society.  It  is  radical.  There  is  in  it  the  intensest  radi- 
calism. The  very  essence  of  it  is  to  give  to  every  human 
being  his  rights — To  every  human  being.     What  more  can 


248  PROVIDENCE   AND   REVELATION. 

radicalism  ask  ?  It  is  also  conservative.  There  is  in  it 
the  intensest  conservatism;  for  to  give  to  every  one  his  rights 
is  the  work  of  righteousness,  and  "  The  work  of  righteous- 
ness is  peace,  and  the  effect  of  righteousness,  quietness  and 
assurance  forever."  When  society  shall  be  established  on 
a  right  basis,  and  every  man  shall  have  his  rights,  conser- 
vatism will  be  the  true  doctrine,  or  rather  radicalism  and 
conservatism  will  be  identified.  Then,  too,  in  the  peace 
and  prosperity  that  shall  follow,  will  be  found  a  perfect 
coincidence  between  the  word  and  the  providence  of  God. 
Of  that  coincidence  do  not  you  doubt.  Labor  for  it.  It 
must  come.  God  is  not  on  the  side  of  the  strongest  bat- 
talions. He  is  on  the  side  of  the  oppressed.  The  rights 
that  he  has  given  he  will  vindicate. 

This  coincidence  of  Providence  with  Revelation,  is 
the  great  lesson  of  history  read  in  the  world's  unrest. 
That  is  the  long,  silent  protest  of  God  against  the  violation 
of  his  fundamental  social  law.  It  is  more  distinct  and 
emphatic  now  than  in  former  times.  The  march  of  Provi- 
dence is  slow.  Its  early  lessons  are  dim.  There  is  no 
convergence.  But  the  times  in  which  we  live  feel  the 
quickening  impulse  of  an  approaching  consummation. 
Events  converge  and  hasten.  Mighty  physical  agencies 
are  wheeled  into  line  ;  ocean  depths  are  a  highway  for 
thought ;  providences  reveal  a  divine  hand  ;  a  deeper 
sense  both  of  rights  and  of  responsibilities  is  leavening  the 
masses  ;  the  thunderstorm  of  a  war  has  cleared  the  moral 
atmosphere  ;  slavery  is  swept  away  as  by  the  breath  of 
God  ;  "  God  is  marching  on."  Fall  in,  my  friends,  fall 
in! 

It  is  to  do  this,  to  work  with  and  for  God,  that  you  go 
from  us.  You  go  with  our  prayers  and  blessing.  For  me 
it  has  been  a  great  satisfaction  to  tread  with  you  some  of 
the  highest  fields  of  thought.    The  truths  we  have  reached, 


PROVIDENCE   AND    REVELATION.  249 

and  the  spirit  of  our  studies,  will  abide  with  you.  Nor 
will  the  bond  between  us,  formed  by  communion  in  those 
truths,  and  not  by  that  alone,  be  soon  sundered.  But 
now,  we  part.  The  staff  is  in  your  own  hands.  Before 
you  is  the  upward  and  limitless  way.     Move  on. 

The  four  years  of  your  college  course  have  been 
almost  synchronous  with  those  of  the  war.  All  honor  to 
the  six  of  your  present  number,  to  the  fourteen  in  all,  who 
have  taken  a  part  in  this.  Of  these,  one  was  killed  in 
battle,  one  died  at  Andersonville,  one  in  camp  of  fever, 
and  two  were  wounded.  These  years  have  opened  a  new 
era  to  the  country  and  to  the  world.  As  years  of  solemn 
feeling  and  of  deep  excitement  in  regard  to  great  principles 
they  should  have  toned  you  up — I  trust  they  have — to  a 
deeper  sense  of  responsibility,  to  greater  earnestness,  to  a 
higher  manhood.  All  these  you  will  need,  for  into  your 
keeping  will  go  these  institutions  that  have  been  bought 
with  so  much  of  blood  and  treasure,  and  woe  to  you  if  you 
do  not  do  your  part  in  carrying  on  to  its  completion  that 
which  has  been  so  grandly  begun.  Such  a  trust  no 
preceding  generation  has  ever  received. 

Nor  has  the  excitement  and  solemn  feeling  during 
your  course  respected  solely  human  government  and  the 
interests  of  time.  Your  attention  has  also  been  drawn 
to  the  great  principles  of  the  divine  government,  and 
to  their  bearing  upon  you  as  the  subjects  of  a  spiritual  and 
an  eternal  kingdom.  In  view  of  these,  many  of  you  have 
professed  to  enter  upon  that  nobler  warfare  of  all  time,  for 
the  establishment,  universally  and  forever,  of  the  principles 
of  freedom  and  of  righteousness.  This  is  the  true  arena  of 
human  labor  and  conflict.  Into  this  I  welcome  you. 
Into  this  the  church  of  God  welcomes  you.  She  needs 
standard  bearers.  Upon  what  you  shall  do  in  this  arena, 
a  great  cloud  of  witnesses  will  look  down.     "  Run,  then. 


250  PROVIDENCE   AND    REVELATION. 

with  patience,  the  race  that  is  set  before  you,  looking 
unto  Jesus  ;'  and  when  the  goal  shall  be  reached,  may- 
each  one  of  you,  "  crowned  with  victory,"  be  permitted,  at 
his  feet,, to  "  lay  your  laurels  down." 


XIV. 

THE   BIBLE   AND   PANTHEISM. 

Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock  ;  if  any  man  hear  my  voice  and  open  the 
door,  I  will  come  in  to  him  and  will  sup  with  him,  and  he  with  me.— Reve- 
lation, iii.  20. 

EVERYTHING  which  God  has  made  he  treats  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  he  has  given  it.  Willing  it  to  be, 
he  respects  its  essential  attributes,  and  concedes  to  it  its 
own  sphere.  This  he  must  do  or  each  thing  would  either 
cease  to  be,  or  to  be  that  thing.  Take  the  smallest  particle 
of  matter.  It  enters  into  the  conception  and  definition  of 
this  that  it  occupies  space.  This  prerogative  it  must  as- 
sert and  vindicate  to  itself  or  cease  to  be.  A  crystal 
ground  to  powder  would  cease  to  be  a  crystal,  and  in  thus 
grinding  it  its  nature  as  a  crystal  would  be  wholly  ignored. 
But  in  governing  matter  God  does  not  thus  ignore  any 
essential  property.  All  physical  problems  he  works  out 
under  physical  conditions,  and  it  would  be  an  imputation 
upon  his  wisdom  to  suppose  that  mere  omnipotence  must 
be  called  in  to  break  down  those  conditions  in  order  to  the 
successful  working  of  such  problems.  It  belongs  to  our 
conception  of  the  divine  perfection  that  God  should  be  able 
to  govern  his  physical  universe  in  accordance  with  the 
properties  which  he  has  himself  bestowed.  Accordingly, 
if  we  ascertain  the  essential  properties  of  any  material 
thing  with  which  God  begins  to  deal,  we  shall  find  that  it 
will  be  through  those  properties,  and  not  by  ignoring  or 
destroying  them,  that  he  will  work  out  his  purposes. 

*+*  July  29,  i866. 


252 


THE   BIBLE  AND  PANTHEISM. 


And  what  is  thus  true  of  matter  that  has  properties,  is 
also  true  of  persons  that  have  will  and  freedom  and  rights. 
Here  the  problems  are  higher.  Grand  and  complex  as  are 
the  problems  connected  with  matter,  taking  hold  as  they 
do  on  infinity  and  eternity,  unsolved,  and  apparently  un- 
solvable  by  science,  they  are  as  nothing  compared  with 
those  that  arise  in  the  government  of  beings  conscious,  free 
and  responsible.  And  if,  in  solving  physical  problems  God 
always  works  under  the  physical  conditions  implied  in  the 
nature  he  has  given,  we  may  be  sure  that  in  solving  moral 
problems  he  will  not  disregard  any  right,  nor  trench  on  any 
original  endowment  or  prerogative  on  which  such  right  is 
based.  We  may  be  sure  that  here  too  his  purposes  will  be 
wrought  out  through  the  fullest  exercise  of  those  very  pre- 
rogatives and  endowments  in  which  the  problems  origi- 
nated. 

Does  God  then  govern  man  as  responsible  ?  Is  respon- 
sibility the  one  element  without  which  moral  government 
could  not  be  ?  Then  we  have  only  to  ascertain  what  the 
conditions  of  responsibility  are,  and  we  may  be  sure  that 
they  will  be  held  inviolate  by  Him. 

And  here  we  say  that  the  one  condition  of  responsibil- 
ity is  the  power  of  rational  choice.  I  do  not  say  freedom, 
because  that  is  ambiguous.  Freedom  is  a  condition,  but 
that  is  involved  in  this  power  of  choice.  This  is  the  cen- 
tral power  in  our  personality,  the  point  of  moral  responsi- 
bility. In  this,  all  processes  of  the  soul  that  precede  it  and 
pass  into  outward  activity  culminate.  All  that  precedes  this 
is  spontaneous,  irresponsible,  subjective.  All  that  succeeds 
this  is  but  its  projection  into  outward  act,  and  its  being  mir- 
rored there.  In  a  true  life,  in  all  moral  life  as  God  sees  it, 
the  outward  act  is  but  the  reflection  and  image  of  the  inward 
choice.  Without  this  power  we  cannot  conceive  that  a 
moral  nature  should  be  brought  into  activity.     We  may, 


THE   BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM. 


253 


and  must  be  constantly  affected  by  events,  as  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  that  have  no  relation  to  our  choice,  but  we  cannot 
feel  responsible  for  them  ;  and  if  God  begins  to  govern  us 
as  responsible,  we  should,  as  has  been  said,  anticipate  with 
certainty  that  no  crisis  or  emergency  could  arise  in  which 
he  would  not  hold  every  condition  of  responsibility  sacred. 
The  point  of  harmony  between  the  divine  omnipotence  and 
the  divine  wisdom  is  that  the  omnipotence  creates  the  con- 
ditions of  every  problem,  physical  and  moral,  and  that  the 
wisdom  works  within  and  under  those  conditions. 

Under  human  government  each  man  has  his  own  sphere 
to  which  he  has  a  right.  It  is  a  maxim  of  English  law 
that  a  man's  house  is  his  castle.  Within  this  nor  curiosity, 
nor  caprice,  nor  malice  may  intrude.  Unless  in  the  inter- 
est of  the  state,  and  armed  with  the  authority  of  law,  no 
one  may  enter  unbidden.  This  is  his  home,  it  is  his  own. 
Bating  crime,  he  has  a  right  to  do  in  it  as  he  pleases.  He 
has  a  right  to  its  exclusion  and  privacy,  and  if  any  one 
would  enter,  he  must  stand  at  the  door  and  knock. 

And  so  under  divine  government,  there  is  a  deeper 
and  more  intimate  sphere  of  the  thoughts  and  affections 
and  sympathies  and  choices.  This  is  the  true  sanctuary 
of  our  nature,  where  are  celebrated  the  nuptials  of  the  soul 
with  its  chosen  good,  and  which  is  known  only  to  the  man 
himself  and  to  God.  Into  this  even  God  himself  does  not 
come  except  with  freest  consent.  When  he  would  enter 
here,  he  does  not  merge  the  attributes  of  the  Moral  Gov- 
ernor in  those  of  the  Creator  and  Proprietor,  but  respect- 
ing the  constitution  he  has  given,  he  says,  "  Behold  I 
stand  at  the  door  and  knock  :  if  any  man  hear  my  voice, 
and  open  the  door,  I  will  come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup 
with  him,  and  he  with  me." 

What  then  have  we  here  ?  Have  we  not  a  prerogative 
that  makes  man   independent  of  God  ?     So  it  seems   to 


254  THE   BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM. 

some,  and  hence  they  hesitate  to  claim  for  it  the  entire- 
ness  implied.  Let  us  then  inquire  after  those  limitations 
and  conditions  by  which  this  prerogative  is  harmonized 
with  divine  government. 

And  first.  The  power  of  choice  is  limited  by  endow- 
ments and  capacities.  A  brute  cannot  choose  between 
books,  or  statues,  or  pictures,  or  steam-engines,  because 
it  has  no  capacity  to  know  them  as  such.  A  man  cannot 
choose  between  walking  and  flying.  One  born  blind  can- 
not choose  between  sight  and  touch.  But  capacities  and 
endowments,  both  in  kind  and  degree,  are  wholly  in  the 
hand  of  God. 

Again,  with  given  capacities  there  is  a  limitation  to 
choice  in  the  objects  presented.  These  as  adapted  to 
man,  it  was  for  God  to  create  or  not  as  it  pleased  him. 
In  providing  for  physical  wants  and  gratifications  he  might 
have  held  forever  the  orange  and  the  melon  and  the  peach 
in  his  creative  capacity.  The  present  variety  is  solely  of 
his  goodness.  And  so  the  objects  and  range  of  the  desires 
and  affections  were  provided  and  meted  out  by  him.  For 
the  race,  and  on  the  whole,  God  may  have  created  objects 
suited  to  meet  every  want,  and  to  draw  out  every  capac- 
ity. No  doubt  he  has,  but  the  limitation  of  choice  through 
the  objects  presented  is  specially  noticeable  in  his  deal- 
in:^s  with  individuals.  From  birth,  sex,  education,  health, 
the  structure  of  society,  the  objects  within  the  scope  of 
individual  choice  are  greatly  limited  and  infinitely  divers- 
ified. The  objects  of  desire  are  numberless,  of  choice  but 
few.  Who  of  us  has  had  it  presented  to  his  choice  whether 
he  would  be  President  of  the  United  States,  or  be  worth  a 
million  of  dollars  ?  Capacities  and  opportunities  seem 
thrown  together  promiscuously.  Capacity  often  lacks  op- 
portunity, opportunity  waits  for  capacity.  All  this  God 
orders  as  seemeth  him  good.  In  this  is  much  of  his  pro- 
6* 


THE   BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM. 


255 


vidential  discipline,  and  through  it  his  creatures  are 
governed. 

Again,  choice  is  limited  not  only  by  capacity  and  the 
objects  presented,  but  also  by  the  time  within  which  they 
are  presented.  Sometimes  the  time  is  long.  "The  long- 
suffering  of  God  waited  in  the  days  of  Noah,"  a  hundred 
and  twenty  years.  Sometimes  the  opportunity  is  given 
but  for  one  bright  moment  and  passes  forever.  In  the  his- 
tory of  every  life  and  in  relation  to  every  interest,  there 
are  periods  within  which  the  choice  must  be  made  on 
which  those  interests  turn.  There  comes  a  last  and  deci- 
sive moment.  After  that  the  offer  is  withdrawn  ;  the  door 
is  shut ;  the  harvest  is  past ;  the  opportunity  is  gone,  and 
will  return  no  more.  This  element  of  time  God  holds  in 
his  sovereign  hand,  abbreviating  or  extending  as  he  pleases 
the  period  of  choice. 

Capacities,  objects,  time — controlling  these  God  hedges 
choice  within  certain  limits.  Still,  if  we  admit  of  plenary 
freedom  within  those  limits,  it  may  be  said  that  we  have 
an  element  if  not  irreducible  under  the  divine  government, 
yet  capable  of  so  setting  itself  against  the  will  of  God  that 
that  will  shall  not  be  done.  And  so  we  have ;  and  the 
will  of  God  is  not  done.  If  that  will  were  done,  there 
would  be  no  sin  ;  if  that  will  were  done,  why  did  our 
Saviour  command  us  to  pray  that  it  might  be  done  ?  It  is 
the  one  great  characteristic  of  this  world,  controlling  all 
its  moral  and  physical  phenomena,  that  the  will  of  God  is 
not  done  in  it.  For  what  did  Christ  come,  for  what  do 
his  ministers  labor,  and  the  church  pray,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  strive,  but  that  the  will  of  God  may  be  done  ?  No, 
my  hearers,  the  will  of  God  is  not  done. 

But  if  not,  how  is  he  omnipotent?  Is  it  not  said  that 
"  he  doeth  according  to  his  will  in  the  army  of  heaven,  and 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth"?     Here  we  need  the 


256  THE  BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM. 

distinction,  made  on  a  former  occasion,  between  choice 
and  volition,  or  between  will  as  choice  and  will  as  volition, 
The  choice  of  God  is  free,  his  volition  is  omnipotent.  As 
volition,  the  will  of  God  is  always  done,  as  choice  it  is  not 
His  choice  is  indicated  by  his  commands.  If  these  do  not 
indicate  choice  there  is  no  meaning  in  words,  there  is  no 
sincerity  in  God.  The  opposite  doctrine  would  be  mon- 
strous. No  man  will  dare  to  say  that  there  is  not  indicated 
by  his  commands  a  choice  of  God  which  the  Bible  calls 
will.  But  choice  in  itself,  or  as  expressed  in  command, 
has  no  efficiency.  It  abides  in  the  mind  choosing,  and  a 
choice  in  the  mind  of  God  has  no  more  efficiency  beyond 
himself  than  a  choice  in  any  other  mind.  The  choice  of 
man,  followed  by  his  volition,  originates  that  future  for 
which  he  is  responsible  ;  and  the  choice  of  God,  followed 
by  his  volition,  and  only  then,  originates  that  future  for 
which,  so  far  as  we  may  apply  the  term  to  Him,  He  is  re- 
sponsible. Omnipotence  pertains  to  the  volition  of  God, 
freedom  to  his  choice.  To  the  volition  of  man,  omnipo- 
tence does  not  pertain,  but  to  his  choice  freedom  does. 
Omnipotence  may  create  a  being  with  the  power  of  ration- 
al choice,  and  fix  the  conditions  under  which  choice  may 
be  made;  but  it  must  then  stand  in  abeyance  while  that 
being  is  governed  by  laws  to  which  omnipotence  has  no 
relation.  It  is  not  implied  in  an  infinite  attribute  that  it 
can  perform  contradictions.  Omniscience  cannot  know 
the  number  of  square  feet  in  infinite  space.  Omnipotence 
cannot  give  solidity  to  thought  or  to  time.  By  definition 
where  a  hill  is,  a  valley  cannot  be;  and  so,  where  omnipo- 
tent will  is  exerted  as  volition,  finite  choice  cannot  be.  If 
we  make  the  ocean  fluid  by  definition,  then  God  cannot 
govern  it  by  congealing  it  into  ice  by  his  omnipotence,  for 
it  would  no  longer  be  the  ocean.  And  he  does  not  so  gov- 
ern it.     No.     He  respects   that  condition  of  fluidity  by 


THE  BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM.  257 

which  it  is  the  ocean.  He  permits  it  to  heave  and  toss, 
and  assay  its  utmost ;  he  lets  its  billows  assault  the 
heavens,  and  wreck  navies,  and  thunder  upon  the  shore ; 
and  it  is  then,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  tempest  is 
wildest,  and  those  billows  are  mightiest  that  he  says, 
"  hitherto  shalt  thou  come  but  no  farther,  and  here  shall 
thy  proud  waves  be  stayed."  And  so,  respecting  perfectly 
that  power  of  rational  choice  which  makes  him  man,  does 
He  govern  man.  "Z^  stilleth  the  noise  of  the  seas,  and  the 
tumult  of  the  people.''  It  is  the  glory  of  his  government,  not 
that  this  earth  and  these  heavens  are  marshalled  by  om- 
nipotence in  an  order  that  is  faultless,  but  that  he  so  gov- 
erns a  universe  of  free  intelligences  without  trenching  upon 
their  freedom,  that  the  glory  of  the  physical  heavens  shall 
be  as  nothing  compared  with  that  moral  glory  which  shall 
illustrate  forever  in  results  of  unspeakable  beauty  and  joy, 
his  wisdom,  his  justice  and  his  grace. 

But  can  such  results  be  reached  by  God  through  the 
choice  of  his  creatures  with  no  control  by  him  except 
through  the  above  limitations?  No.  Whatever  may  have 
been  true  originally,  we  fail  to  reach  through  these  limita- 
tions, a  full  conception  of  the  dependence  of  a  sinner  upon 
God. 

As  a  sinner,  man  must  be  wholly  dependent  upon  God 
for  forgiveness.  Forgiveness  is  God's  act,  and  must  rest 
with  him.  Grace  must  be  free,  or  it  would  not  be  grace, 
and  as  free,  it  must  be  sovereign. 

As  a  sinner  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  man  must  also 
be  dependent  on  God  for  quickening.  His  death  is  not 
one  of  mere  negation  requiring  omnipotence  to  originate  a 
new  mode  of  being,  but  a  death  of  chosen  and  intense  ac- 
tivity in  trespassing  and  sinning.  So  intense  is  this  death, 
so  absorbing  the  activity  in  it,  that  left  to  itself  it  would  go 
on  forever.     Hence  the  necessity  of  positive  interposition 


258  THE  BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM. 

on  the  part  of  God,  and,  in  connection  with  that,  of  the 
doctrines  of  grace.  Hence  the  necessity  that  Christ  should 
stand  at  the  door  and  knock. 

What  then  is  this  knocking?  In  its  broadest  sense  it 
consists  of  every  influence  that  addresses  man's  higher  na- 
ture and  tends  to  bring  him  into  right  relations  to  God. 
Christianity  is  a  great  redemptive  and  remedial  system. 
Under  it  not  only  is  a  way  of  salvation  opened  for  those  who 
may,  of  their  own  accord,  choose  to  enter,  but  there  is  also 
provided  a  system  of  means  and  influences  to  bring  men  to 
enter  into  that  way.  It  is,  indeed,  for  this  that  the  world 
stands.  The  end  of  this  world  is  not,  as  some  seem  to 
think,  progress — the  boasted  and  hackneyed  progress  of 
this  age — progress,  and  an  ultimate  state  of  high  civiliza- 
tion, or  even  of  millennial  perfection  and  glory  for  that 
portion  of  the  race  that  may  then  live.  No.  Christian- 
ity respects  the  whole  race  with  its  myriads  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  its  object  is  to  bring  together  in  one  perma- 
nent community,  and  with  surroundings  corresponding  with 
their  moral  character,  all  who  have  aflinity  with  each  other 
through  the  love  of  God.  To  this  end  God  weaves  the 
bright  lines  of  his  beneficence  into  the  web  of  his  provi- 
dence. Suffering  all  nations  to  walk  in  their  own  ways,  he 
yet  does  not  leave  himself  without  witness  in  that  he  does 
good  and  gives  them  rain  from  heaven  and  fruitful  seasons, 
filling  their  hearts  with  food  and  gladness.  To  this  end  he 
revealed  himself  to  patriarchs  and  prophets.  To  this  end 
Christ  came,  and  taught,  and  suffered,  and  died,  and  rose 
again.  To  this  end  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  his  powerful  and 
special  influences,  is  given.  And  now,  throughout  this 
whole  system,  whether  under  what  is  called  providence  or 
grace,  whatever  ought  to  appeal  to  the  moral  nature  of 
man,  and,  with  his  co-operation,  would  lead  or  fit  him  to 
be  a  member  of  the  great  family  of  God,  is  God's  voice,  as, 


THE   BIBLE  AND    PANTHEISM.  259 

in  the  person  of  Christ,  and  under  a  mediatorial  system, 
he  stands  at  the  door  of  man's  heart  and  knocks. 

In  the  call  implied  in  this  knocking  two  things  are  re- 
quired, just  those  that  respect  the  two  great  crises  in  the 
spiritual  history  of  every  Christian.  One  is  that  he  should 
hear  the  voice  of  the  Saviour ;  the  other  that  he  should 
open  the  door. 

For  the  most  part  men  are  engrossed  in  the  things  of 
time.  So  intense  and  exclusive  is  their  devotion  to  them 
that  their  insensibility  to  the  things  of  the  Spirit  is,  as  I 
have  said,  characterized  by  inspiration  as  death.  Seeing 
they  see  not,  and  hearing  they  hear  not.  Now  it  is  an  era 
in  any  life  when  this  engrossment  and  Hmitation  of  thought 
are  broken  up  and  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come  assert 
their  claims.  Before,  the  man  saw  only  the  river  on  which 
he  seemed  to  be  sailing  ;  now  he  sees  the  ocean,  and  feels 
the  ground-swell  of  a  mightier  movement  than  that  of  time. 
Now  the  Saviour  knocks,  and  hearing,  he  hears.  He  hears 
his  voice. 

And  now  comes  the  second  great  crisis  in  his  spiritual 
history.     Can  he,  will  he  open  the  door? 

That  he  can  in  the  proper  sense  of  that  word  is  implied 
in  the  fact  that  Christ  knocks.  If  he  do  indeed  knock, 
then  to  argue  the  question  of  ability  is  an  impeachment 
of  his  sincerity. 

But  if  he  can,  and  do  not  choose  to  do  it,  can  God  so 
knock  as  to  bring  him  thus  to  choose  ?  Can  God,  with- 
out infringing  upon  the  prerogatives  of  choice,  cause  all 
choices  to  be  coincident  with  his  ?  We  think  he  can. 
The  term  omnipotence  we  do  not  regard  as  applicable 
here,  because  moral  results  must  be  reached  by  moral 
causes,  and  within  the  sphere  of  freedom  ;  but  yet  we  do 
not  believe  that  God  has  let  loose  a  power  which  is  either 
in  itself,  or  in  its  results,  beyond  his  prevision  and  control. 


260  THE   BIBLE   AND   PANTHEISM. 

We  prefer  to  say  that  the  limit  of  his  interposition  has  been 
from  the  beginning,  and  is  now,  not  the  limit  of  his  resources, 
but  one  imposed  by  his  infinite  wisdom.  What  do  we  know 
of  the  possible  modes  of  interaction  between  spirit  and 
spirit?  Between  the  Infinite  spirit  and  finite  spirits? 
What  do  we  mean  by  the  drawings  of  divine  love — the 
drawing  of  the  Father  ?  What  by  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Ghost ;  These  cannot  be  physical.  Omnipotence  cannot 
be  predicated  of  them,  and  yet,  if  God  so  please,  they  may 
be  made  as  adequate  within  their  sphere  as  omnipotence 
in  its  sphere.  God  can  come  to  his  creatures,  and  can 
manifest  himself  to  them  and  in  them  ineffably.  He  can 
work  in  them  "  fo  wilV  as  well  as  "to  do,"  and  yet  such 
working  may  not  be,  it  is  not  a  limitation  of  freedom  ;  it 
is  its  purification  and  exaltation  to  that  point  where  it 
reaches  the  certainty  and  the  security  of  heaven.  It  may 
be  effectual,  and  yet  of  all  that  pertains  to  it  God  may  be 
able  to  say,  "  Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock." 

You  are  entering  now  life  at  a  period  when  the  thought 
of  the  world,  so  far  as  it  separates  itself  from  the  Bible, 
tends  towards  pantheism.  Modern  infidelity  has  various 
names  and  forms,  but  the  substance  is  that ;  and  under 
whatever  form,  it  is  sure  to  chill  and  dwarf  man,  and  dis- 
integrate society.  Of  old,  with  the  uniformities  of  nature 
unknown,  and  her  forces  unsubdued,  pantheism  was  im- 
possible. The  tendency  then  was  to  polytheism,  and 
idolatry,  and  superstition.  But  as  science  advanced,  and 
that  sense  of  uniformity  which  has  been  called  the  scien- 
tific instinct,  prevailed,  pantheism  became  possible.  Go- 
ing in  the  direction  opposite  to  polytheism,  and  not  accept- 
ing one  personal  God,  this  is  the  last  term  which,  a  mind 
alien  from  God  can  reach,  and  which,  without  the  Bible,  it  is 
sure  to  reach.  Polytheism,  idolatry,  superstition,  on  the 
Due  hand  ;  or  pantheism  on  the  other,  I  regard  as  inevit- 


THE  BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM.  26 1 

able  for  man  without  the  direct  revelation  and  recognition 
of  a  personal  God.  Against  both  these  the  Bible  guards 
equally  and  marvellously.  Its  denunciations  of  idolatry 
could  not  be  more  contemptuous  and  terrific  ;  its  antag- 
onism to  pantheism  and  all  affinity  with  it,  could  not  be 
more  absolute.  During  the  height  and  pressure  of  the  first 
tendency  it  was  the  Bible  alone  that  preserved  in  the  world 
the  knowedge  of  the  One  God,  with  such  attributes  as  to 
make  him  a  worthy  object  of  worship  ;  and  it  is  the  Bible 
alone  that  now  holds  men  back  from  pantheism. 

Of  pantheism  as  a  system  the  mass  of  the  people  as 
yet  know  nothing,  and  for  it  they  care  nothing ;  but, 
through  conversation,  the  press,  the  lecture,  the  tendency 
reaches  them,  coming  in  like  a  mist,  and  affecting,  chill- 
ing, deoxydizing  their  whole  atmosphere  of  thought.  It 
comes  in  two  forms,  with  different  origin,  but  similar  result. 
Beginning  at  the  lowest  point  and  working  up,  the  pan- 
theism of  Natural  Science  is  reached,  which  attributes  all 
things  to  principles,  and  laws,  and  to  development.  Of  this 
man  is  the  highest  result  and  expression.  This  is  the 
heathenism  of  science,  and  is  just  as  much  opposed  to  the 
religion  and  God  of  the  Bible  as  the  polytheism  of  old,  or 
as  fetichism  is  now.  Beginning,  on  the  other  hand,  with 
God,  and  working  down,  a  metaphysical,  or  theological 
pantheism  is  reached,  that,  either  from  the  difficulty  of 
conceiving  of  creation,  or  under  the  guise  of  exalting  God, 
merges  all  things  in  him.  It  makes  God  virtually  the  only 
being,  and  his  will  the  only  will.  But  it  matters  little 
whether  you  make  God  everything,  or  everything  God  ; 
whether  you  destroy  the  freedom  of  something  called  God 
in  exalting  man,  or  the  freedom  of  man  in  exalting  God. 
In  either  case,  instead  of  freedom,  with  responsibility,  and 
moral  government,  the  majesty  of  a  personal  God,  the 
beauty  of  holiness  and  the  joy  of  willing  obedience,  you 


262  THE   BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM. 

have  a  system  of  blind  tendencies  and  dead  uniformities  j 
or,  under  the  name  of  will,  of  an  iron  and  remorseless 
fatalism. 

Against  both  these  you  are  to  be  guarded,  against  both 
to  guard  others,  and  both  your  shield  and  weapon  will  be 
found  in  that  revelation  which  God  makes  of  himself  in 
Christ,  and  in  the  attitude  towards  man  which  he  assumes 
when  he  says.  "  Behold  /— ."  Ah,  that  word  ^  that  lit- 
tle word !  Nature  does  not  know  it.  Except  through 
man,  pantheism  does  not  know  it ;  in  its  high  sense  fatal- 
ism does  not  know  it ;  positiveism  does  not  know  it. 
Behold  I — .  Who?  "Immanuel.  God  with  us."  Not 
from  works  now,  not  from  laws,  blind  laws  bringing  all 
things  alike  to  all,  not  by  inferences  do  we  know  God  ; 
but,  both  condescending  to  our  weakness,  and  meeting 
our  wants.  He  stands  before  us,  "God  manifest  in  the 
flesh."  This  is  the  highest  expression  of  personality 
which  it  is  possible  God  should  give.  This  will  hold 
men  to  their  moorings  when  nothing  else  could.  If  God 
has  appeared  "  in  fashion  as  a  man  "  and  spoken  to  us,  to 
doubt  his  personality  is  no  longer  possible.  Thus  has  he 
appeared  and  spoken. 

And  not  only  has  he  thus  affirmed  his  own  personality, 
but  in  saying,  "  Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock^'  he 
recognizes  the  distinct  personality  of  others,  and  all  the 
conditions  of  responsibility.  Everywhere  the  Bible  asserts 
the  distinct  personality  and  supremacy  of  God  ;  every- 
where the  separate  agency  and  responsibility  of  man. 
These  are  the  truths  to  be  received.  Settle  as  you  please, 
or  not  at  all,  let  others  settle  as  they  please,  or  not  at  all, 
the  questions  that  grow  out  of  a  transmitted  life,  of  an 
inherited  nature,  of  the  relations  of  spirit  to  matter,  and 
of  the  finite  to  the  infinite,  questions  about  which  the 
Bible  never  troubles  itself  at  all,  but  hold  you  fast  to  a 


THE  BIBLE  AND   PANTHEISM.  263 

personal  God,  a  Father  in  heaven,  and  to  his  supremacy ; 
and  also  to  a  realm  of  freedom  and  supernatural  power 
wide  as  his  works,  and  as  much  grander  than  they  as 
spirit  is  higher  than  matter.  You  cannot  reconcile  the 
two?  Then  let  the  legitimate  supremacy  of  the  practi- 
cal nature  assert  itself,  ahd  with  entire  faith  act  on 
both.  This  must  you  often  do  in  life.  Often,  with 
limited  capacity,  must  your  whole  rational  nature  de- 
mand that  you  should  act  upon  facts  well  authenticated, 
though  seemingly  discrepant,  without  waiting  to  reconcile 
them. 

Finding  rest  then  either  in  full  comprehension,  or  in 
rational  faith,  with  such  a  God  above  you,  with  a  cloud  of 
witnesses  around  you,  with  your  freedom  of  choice 
respected  even  by  omnipotent  power,  with  the  love  that  is 
in  Christ  taking  in  its  higher  sphere,  the  place  of  omnipo- 
tence in  that  which  is  lower,  your  whole  nature  is  met. 
It  only  remains  for  you  to  choose  for  yourselves  what 
guidance  and  companionship  you  will  have.  What  I 
desire  for  you  all,  the  one  thing,  is  the  guidance  and  com- 
panionship of  Him  who  offers  himself  to  you.  "  If  any 
man  hear  my  voice."  You,  my  friends,  need  not,  you  can- 
not fight  the  battles  that  are  before  you — the  battles  of 
life,  and  the  battles  with  death, — alone.  It  is  the  one  great 
fact  of  our  human  life  that  its  Giver  and  Lord  offers  him- 
self to  us  in  a  form  in  which  we  can  apprehend  him  not 
merely  for  redemption,  but  for  help  and  guidance,  for  com- 
panionship and  sympathy.  In  taking  our  nature  upon  him 
he  has  come  near  to  us ;  having  been  tempted  he  knows 
how  to  succor  us  ;  in  him  "  are  hid,"  for  us  "  all  the  treas- 
ures of  wisdom  and  knowledge."  And  now  as  you  look 
out  upon  life,  full  of  interests  so  precious,  and  forward  to 
the  future  life,  with  issues  so  momentous,  He,  the  Saviour 


264  THE.   BI]]LE   AND    TANTHEISM. 

of  men,  offers  himself  to  you.  With  infinite  tenderness  he 
stands  at  the  door  of  your  hearts  and  knocks.  O,  open 
the  door.  Open  it  fully.  In  this  is  all  your  wisdom. 
Open  the  door,  and  he  will  come  in  to  you,  and  will  sup 
with  you,  and  you  with  Him. 


XV. 


ON   LIBERALITY   IN    RELIGIOUS   BELIEF. 

If  there  come  any  unto  you  and  bring  not  this  doctrine,  receive  him  not  in  your 
house,  neither  bid  him  God-speed  ;  for  he  that  biddeth  him  God-speed  is 
partaker  of  his  evil  deeds. — 2  John,  10,  n. 

IS  it  possible  that  this  passage  was  written  by  the  beloved, 
and  the  loving  Apostle  John  ?  Is  it  he  whose  Epistles  so 
commend  and  command  love,  who  exhorts  a  kind-hearted 
woman  disposed  to  hospitality  to  close  her  doors  against 
men  simply  on  account  of  the  doctrine  they  bring  ?  Not 
on  account  of  their  character,  or  their  life,  but  on  account 
of  their  doctrine  !  Yes,  their  doctrine  !  !  How  strange  ! 
Was  it  that  he  was  a  Jew,  and  had  but  recently  emerged 
from  a  system  avowedly  narrow  and  exclusive,  and  did  not 
as  yet  comprehend  the  breadth  and  freedom  into  which 
Christianity  was  ultimately  to  expand  ?  Did  the  new  wine 
of  that  freer  and  more  liberal  system  which  Christ 
brought,  find  in  him  an  old  bottle?  True,  the  doctrine  to 
which  he  refers  "  was  the  doctrine  of  Christ."  It  involved 
the  validity  of  His  claims,  and  seemed  to  be  in  peril. 
"  For,"  says  he,  "  many  deceivers  are  entered  into  the  world 
who  confess  not  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come  in  the^  flesh. 
This  is  a  deceiver  and'  an  anti-Christ.  .  .  .  Whosoever 
transgresseth,  and  abideth  not  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ, 
hath  not  God.  He  that  abideth  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ, 
he  hath  both  the  Father  and  the  Son."  It  is  true,  too, 
that  the  customs  of  society,  the  relations  of  parties,  and 

***  July  28,  1867. 


266       ON   LIBERALITY  IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 

the  import  of  such  acts  were  different  then.  Still,  making 
every  allowance,  if  we  judge  from  this  passage  and  its 
connections,  the  Apostle  John  did  not  belong  to  "the 
broad  church." 

Freedom,  liberality,  breadth,  liberal  Christianity,  broad 
church  ;  narrowness,  illiberality,  bigotry,  superstition,  or, 
to  concentrate  all  in  one  word,  orthodoxy,— these  are  the 
terms  that  we  hear  bandied  on  every  side,  and  we  would 
gladly  know  their  import. 

These  terms  are  applied  to  men  on  the  ground  of  their 
belief — not  their  belief  on  all  subjects,  but 

First,  as  they  believe  less  or  more  in  the  existence  and 
agency  of  invisible  personal  beings,  including  God. 

Secondly,  As  they  believe  less  or  more  in  the  impor- 
tance of  religious  truth. 

And  thirdly,  As  they  believe  in  conditions  of  salvation 
that  requires  a  life  of  less  or  greater  strictness,  and  that 
thus  include  a  smaller  or  larger  number. 

First,  then,  men  are  said  to  be  liberal  and  broad  as 
they  believe  little  in  invisible  personal  agency  ;  and  to  be 
narrow  and  superstitious  as  they  believe  more  in  such 
agency. 

Of  belief  in  such  agency  we  have  had,  and  still  have, 
every  shade  from  the  drivelling  superstition  of  African 
Fetishism  to  a  blank  atheism.  In  a  state  of  ignorance 
and  barbarism,  men  attribute  to  personal  agency  many  of 
those  movements  and  changes  in  nature  which,  as  society 
advances,  are  resolved  into  the  operation  of  general  laws, 
implying  but  a  single  agent.  The  supernatural  agency 
thus  believed  in  is  multifarious,  capricious,  with  more  of 
malignity  than  of  good-will,  often  wholly  malignant,  and  is 
made  by  artful  men  a  means  of  terror,  or  subjection,  and 
of  degradation  to  the  people.  There  have  been  no  despo- 
tisms like  those  based  on  superstition,  and  no  lower  deep 


ON  LIBERALITY  IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF.       267 

of  degradation  than  that  caused  by  it,  unless  it  be  the 
degradation  of  a  sensual  and  bloody  infidelity  caused  by 
its  rebound. 

It  is  in  this  belief  in  the  supernatural  connected  with 
fear  and  with  irrational  and  debasing  practices  from  that 
that  we  find  the  essence  of  superstition.  Superstition  is 
not,  as  is  said  by  Charles  Kingsley  in  a  recent  lecture  on 
that  subject,  "  the  fear  of  the  unknown."  It  is  the  fear  of 
the  supernatural  vci  the  unknown.  Take  away  from  super- 
stition the  element  of  the  supernatural,  and  the  residuum 
is  simply  error.  To  dislodge  this  fear  as  a  cause  of  degra- 
dation to  the  masses,  it  does  not  appear  that  anything  but 
Christianity  can  avail,  and  even  that  has  not  been  able  to 
do  it  fully  as  yet  in  any  country.  It  is  surprising  how 
many  superstitions  still  linger  even  in  the  most  enlightened 
parts  of  Christendom,  showing  the  natural  and  ineradicable 
affinity  of  man  for  the  supernatural,  and  the  certainty  of  a 
region,  somewhere,  and  in  some  form,  corresponding  to 
that  affinity. 

But  relatively,  since  the  coming  of  Christ, — 

"  The  Oracles  are  dumb  ; 

No  voice  or  hideous  hum 
Runs  through  the  arched  roof  in  words  deceiving." 
"  Peor  and  BaaUm 

Forsake  their  temples  dim." 
"  Nor  is  Osiris  seen. 

In  Memphian  grove  or  green." 

Wherever  the  Bible  is  fully  received,  the  brood  of  super- 
stition is  dispersed. 

"  The  flocking  shadows  pale 
Troop  to   the  infernal  jail." 

Through  the  light  and  impulse   given  by  Christian- 
ity, science  has  taken  the  place  of  superstition,  and  men 


268       ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 

have  thus  reached  a  position  that  has  enabled  them 
to  go  beyond  the  limits  allowed  by  Christianity,  and  to 
repudiate  that  without  which  no  such  science  had  been 
possible. 

In  this  whole  movement  there  have  been  marked  points 
of  transition.  There  has  been  the  transition  from  heathen- 
ism to  Christianity.  This  involved  no  denial  of  super- 
natural personal  agency,  but  a  change  from  a  belief  in  the 
"  gods  many  and  the  lords  many  "  of  that  system,  to  a 
belief  in  the  one  living  and  true  God,  and  in  the  system  of 
revelation  and  redemption  made  known  in  the  Bible. 

Then  there  is  the  transition  from  a  belief  in  God  as 
revealed  in  the  Bible  to  deism.  Deism  acknowledges 
God.  It  may,  or  may  not,  believe  in  providence  ;  but  it 
knows  of  no  revelation  except  through  nature,  and  denies 
that  personal  interposition  ever  comes  in  to  change  her 
uniformities. 

From  deism  there  is  a  transition  to  pantheism,  and 
from  pantheism — though  it  may  not  be  easy  to  see  the 
difference — to  absolute  atheism.  According  to  either  of 
these  systems  both  revelation  and  miracles  are  impossible 
and  absurd. 

According  to  Comte,  the  apostle  of  positivism,  these 
transitions,  and  the  necessary  steps  of  the  human  mind 
towards  its  enlargement,  are  from  supernatural  agency  to 
metaphysical  causation,  and  from  that  to  positivism.  Pos- 
itivism knows  nothing  of  God.  It  regards  as  illegitimate 
all  investigations  concerning  causes,  efficient  or  final ;  and 
would  confine  philosophy  to  a  knowledge  of  facts  and 
their  order. 

Now  it  is  to  be  observed  that  at  each  of  these  steps 
those  who  make  them,  or  opproximate  towards  them,  claim 
that  they  become  more  liberal  and  broad,  and  look  upon 
those  they  leave  behind  as  narrow  and  superstitious.     Li 


ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF.        269 

those  thus  left  hold  to  their  views  strongly,  they  call  them 
bigoted.  Those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  retain  their  pos- 
ition, call  the  party  of  movement  latitudinarians,  infidels, 
heretics.  These  terms,  whether  used  for  commendation 
or  reproach,  thus  become  wholly  relative.  To  a  believer 
in  revelation,  a  deist  is  an  infidel;  to  the  atheist,  or  panthe- 
ist, he  is  still  in  trammels,  limited,  narrow ;  and  it  is  the 
atheist  alone  who  has  come  out  into  perfect  freedom  and 
enlargement. 

I  have  said  that  these  terms  are  applied  on  the  ground 
of  a  belief  or  disbelief  in  supernatural  agency.  This  is 
true  ;  but  it  is  to  be  observed  that  when  this  belief  is  so 
held  as  to  lose  its  hold  upon  the  conscience  and  its  control 
of  conduct  the  intense  meaning  that  belonged  to  the  terms 
originally,  especially  those  of  reproach,  is  discharged. 
They  so  fade  out  as  to  be  used  with  indifference,  or  in  jest, 
and  it  is  practically  regarded,  as  it  really  is,  of  little  con- 
sequence what  a  man  believes. 

And  this  leads  me  to  observe,  in  the  second  place, 
that  the  terms  mentioned  are  applied  to  men  as  they  be- 
lieve less  or  more  in  the  importance  of  religious  truth,  and 
so  are  less  or  more  strenuous  respecting  it. 

We  here  find  an  anomaly.  On  other  practical  subjects 
men  regard  the  truth  as  vital.  Truth  is  but  an  expression 
of  the  actual  state  of  things,  and  if  men  do  not  act  in 
accordance  with  that  they  fail.  Who  goes  to  California 
for  gold  except  as  he  is  assured  of  the  truth  that  gold  is 
there.''  The  Bible,  too,  attaches  great  importance  to  truth. 
It  says:  "  Buy  the  truth  and  sell  it  not."  "Contend  ear- 
nestly for  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints."  It  makes 
truth  the  means  of  sanctification  :  "  Sanctify  them  through 
thy  truth;"  It  makes  salvation  depend  on  belief:  "He 
that  believeth  shall  be  saved."  *'  He  that  believeth  not 
shall  be  damned."     And  yet  it  is  not,  perhaps,  strange 


270      ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 

that  the  idea  of  liberality  should  attach  itself  to  a  light 
estimate  of  religious  truth. 

For  what  do  we  see  ?  We  see  a  belief  in  dogmas  made 
a  substitute  for  a  Christian  life, — loud  profession  and  high 
orthodoxy  in  connection  with  lax  and  questionable  moral- 
ity. We  see  dogmas  maintained  with  bitterness,  and  by 
means  subversive  of  all  the  principles  of  the  Gospel.  We 
see  in  most  countries  a  belief  in  them  connected  with  a 
settled  order  of  things,  and  so  with  power  and  place.  We 
see  how  numerous  and  slight  the  points  are — some  of  doc- 
trine, some  of  dicipline,  extending  even  to  ecclesiastical 
millinery — on  the  ground  of  which  men  divide  and  become 
hostile  sects.  We  see  points  of  difference  magnified,  and 
feeling  concerning  them  intense,  as  they  are  of  less  im- 
portance. We  become,  perhaps,  confused  by  the  diversity 
and  clamor  ;  and  it  cannot  be  thought  strange  if  these 
exhibitions  of  weakness  and  of  wickedness  should  cause 
a  rebound  in  the  opposite  direction.  They  have  caused 
this  ;  and  here,  as  before,  the  utmost  extreme  claims  for 
itself  the  greatest  liberality.  One  cardinal  proposition, 
and  but  one,  those  who  make  this  claim  do  hold  to.  It  is 
that  religious  belief,  articles  of  faith,  creeds,  are  of  no  con- 
sequence provided  the  life  be  right. 

•*  For  forms  and  creeds  let  graceless  bigots  fight, 
lie  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

This  they  hold  ;  and  as  a  corollary  they  hold  that  those 
who  do  not  believe  it  are  narrow  and  bigoted,  and  not  fit 
to  belong  to  the  broad  church.  It  is,  indeed,  questionable 
whether  they  are  fit  to  belong  to  this  nineteenth  century. 

But    in   the    third    place,    the   terms   in  question    are 
applied  to  men  as  they  believe  in  conditions  of  salvation 
that  require  a  life  of  less  or  greater  strictness,  and  that 
7 


ON    LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF.       2/1 

will  thus  include  a  smaller  or  larger  number.  It  is  as  thus 
applied  that  these  terms  excite  the  most  intense  feeling. 

Some  believe  that  all  men  will  be  saved  do  what  they 
may.  They  believe  in  self-indulgence  till  the  world  is 
exhausted,  and  in  suicide  then  as  the  shortest  road  to 
heaven.  These  are  as  liberal  and  broad  in  their  sphere 
as  the  atheist  is  in  his.  Between  this  point  and  the  fast- 
ings, the  flagellations,  the  hair  shirts  of  monasticism,  or 
the  precise  bead-telling  and  genuflexions  of  lighter  forms 
of  superstition,  there  is  every  variety  both  of  view  and  of 
practice. 

In  the  early  stages  of  all  religious  movements,  whether 
dispensations,  reformations,  or  the  origin  of  sects,  the 
tendency  is  to  a  definite  belief  and  strict  practice.  But 
in  time  the  force  of  the  original  movement  dies  out. 
"  The  letter  that  killeth  "  displaces  "  the  spirit  that  giveth 
life."  Forms  stiffen  into  formalism,  and  under  this  there 
will  lurk,  first  indifference,  then  infidelity,  and  then  con- 
tempt. After  this  no  human  power  can  renew  the  move- 
ment. For  human  systems,  decay  is  death  ;  while  in 
God's  system,  apparent  decay  is  simply  winter.  But  dur- 
ing such  a  process  of  relaxation,  men  who  had  seemed 
molten  together,  separate,  and  re-combine  as  by  elective 
affinity.  As  some  become  rich  and  self-indulgent,  and 
more  desirous  of  the  fashions  and  gaieties  of  the  world, 
they  gravitate  towards  certain  denominations  ;  and  denom- 
inations themselves,  as  the  Quakers  and  Methodists  within 
the  last  two  generations,  become  greatly  modified.  As 
such  changes  go  on,  the  more  strict  lament  the  degener- 
acy of  the  times,  while  those  thought  to  be  degenerate 
regard  themselves  as  coming  into  greater  freedom  and 
enlargement.  They  have  become  more  liberal,  and  look 
back  upon  their  former  state  as  one  of  narrowness,  or 
superstition,   or  bigotry.     Perhaps  they  remain  with  the 


272       ON  LIBERALITY  IN  RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 

denomination  in  which  they  were  born,  but  they  will  more 
likely  take  or  make  an  occasion  to  pass  into  one  where  the 
general  standard  is  more  lax. 

In  this  state  of  things,  with  lines  not  sharply  drawn, 
with  indefinite  standards,  with  customs  objected  to  and 
denounced,  not  as  sinful  in  themselves,  but  on  account 
of  their  associations  and  liabilities  to  abuse,  we  hear  the 
terms  in  question  applied  quite  promiscuously,  and  often 
with  intense  feeling.  One  man  re£;ards  his  own  standard 
as  scriptural  and  rational ;  that  of  his  neighbor  as  lax  and 
worldly.  His  neighbor  regards  his  own  standard  as  en- 
lightened and  liberal,  and  that  of  his  neighbor  as  narrow 
and  bigoted.  He  thinks  him  over-scrupulous  and  that  he 
makes  Christ's  yoke  heavier  than  Christ  himself  made  it. 

We  have  thus  three  spheres  and  standards  of  liberality. 
In  the  first  the  relation  of  man  and  of  nature  to  super- 
natural agency  is  immediately  in  question ;  in  the  second 
it  is  the  relation  of  a  belief  in  truth  to  practice  that  is  in 
question  ;  and  in  the  third  it  is  the  relation  of  the  practical 
life  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity  and  to  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  God.  But  while  the  questions  are  thus  apparently 
different,  their  central  point  is  the  same.  They  all  find 
their  unity  and  interest  in  the  relation  of  the  human  will 
to  supernatural  control.  Eliminate  but  this  one  idea,  and 
the  crested  waves  of  these  controversies  will  subside  to 
the  merest  ripple  ;  and  the  terms  that  may  be  used,  how- 
ever intense  in  form,  will  be  charged  with  no  divisive 
elements.  The  real  questions  are,  the  existence  of  a  holy 
God  claiming  control  over  the  human  will,  and  the  extent 
of  the  control  thus  claimed. 

Is  there  then  any  criterion  of  liberality  in  these  several 
spheres.'*  May  we  know  where  narrowness  ends  on  the 
one  side,  and  laxness  begins  on  the  other  ? 

And  first,  what  is  our  criterion  in  the  sphere  of  belief 


ON  LIBERALITY  IN  RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 


273 


respecting  supernatural  agency,  involving  a  belief  in 
efficient  causation  and  in  final  causes  or  ends  intelligently 
proposed  and  pursued  in  nature  ?  If  we  begin  with  Fetish- 
ism and  pass  up,  resolving  phenomena  that  had  been  at- 
tributed to  spiritual  agency  into  general  laws,  where  shall 
we  stop  ? 

We  must  stop  at  the  poifit  where  negation  begins  to  affect 
the  sum  and grarideiir  of  being.  This  is  the  criterion.  In 
passing  up  from  Fetishism  we  do  indeed  constantly  deny, 
but  we  also  constantly  affirm.  As  we  diminish  the  num- 
ber of  supernatural  agents  we  increase  their  greatness,  till 
we  resolve  all  natural  laws  and  forces  directly  or  indirectly 
into  the  will  of  the  one  infinite  God.  If  now  we  clothe 
Him  in  our  conceptions  with  perfect  moral  attributes,  we 
have  the  highest  conceivable  sum  and  mode  of  being. 
This  is  the  condition,  and  the  only  condition,  of  the  per- 
fect working  and  indefinite  progress  of  the  human  faculties. 
Here  we  reach  the  point  of  the  liberality  without  narrow- 
ness and  without  laxness.  Beyond  this  we  pass  into  nega- 
tion and  tenuity. 

The  criterion  is  one  not  merely  to  be  seen  by  the 
intellect,  but  to  be  felt  as  a  condition  of  growth.  The 
condition  of  indefinite  growth  in  intellect  is  thoughts  of 
God  still  unfathomed ;  and  the  condition  of  growth  in  the 
moral  nature  is  a  recognized  goodness  in  God  that  trans- 
cends ours.  Man  cannot  live  in  negations.  If  he  could 
reach  a  point  where  the  imagination  even  could  transcend 
the  possibilities  of  being,  he  would  begin  to  be  dwarfed. 
As  in  passing  upwards  we  reach  a  point  where  breathing 
becomes  less  effective  from  the  thinness  of  the  atmosphere, 
so  the  moment  we  begin  to  deny  intelligent  will  to  God, 
or  to  impair  his  moral  attributes,  or  to  limit  his  control 
over  the  universe  by  anything  but  the  conditions  which 
he  has  himself  imposed,  we  come  into  a  mental  atmos- 


274       ON  LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF. 

phere  of  less  vitality.  All  history  shows  that  from  that 
point  constructive  power  wanes,  and  moral  torpor  begins. 

What  we  say  then  is,  that  our  criterion  here  must  be 
the  condition  of  highest  activity  and  fullest  growth  for  the 
human  powers  ;  that  that  condition  is  the  complement  and 
perfection  of  being  as  recognized  in  an  infinite  and  per- 
sonal God  ;  and  that  for  man  to  apply  terms  of  commen- 
dation to  virtual  negations  that  must  stifle  his  own  life  and 
dwarf  his  own  growth  is  to  call  evil  good. 

But  secondly,  what  is  the  criterion  of  liberality  in 
regard  to  the  importance  of  religious  truth .'' 

It  is  here  virtually  the  same  as  before.  Truth  is  of 
importance  only  as  it  ministers  to  life,  and  as  it  is  the  only 
thing  that  can  thus  minister.  What  we  claim  for  truth  in 
the  religious  sphere,  is  the  same  that  we  claim  for  it  else- 
where— ^just  that  and  no  more.  Everywhere  it  is  the  basis 
of  all  rational  action,  the  very  light  in  which  man  must 
walk  if  he  would  not  stumble.  Men  hold  truth  that  is  not 
acted  upon.  There  is  much  that  cannot  be  the  basis  of 
action,  and  that  which  may,  and  should  be,  is  often  held,  or 
rather  imprisoned,  in  indolence  and  unrighteousness.  Be 
its  adaptions  what  they  may,  let  any  truth  lie  in  the  mind 
undigested,  unassimilated,  giving  no  impulse  or  guidance, 
and  it  might  as  well  not  be  there.  Still,  whatever  rational 
action  there  may  be,  is,  and  must  be  based  on  the  belief 
of  something  as  true.  Men  do  something  because  they 
believe  something ;  and  in  religion  no  less  than  in  other 
things  they  must  believe  in  order  to  do,  unless,  indeed,  we 
resolve  the  religious  life  into  that  mere  muddle  of  unintel- 
ligent feeling  called  mysticism.  Men  may  believe  in  God 
and  not  worship  him,  but  they  cannot  worship  him  unless 
they  believe  in  him.  Unless  they  believe  that  "  Christ  has 
come  in  the  flesh,"  they  cannot  follow  him.  Unless  they 
believe  in  a  moral  government,  they  cannot  fear  to  sin  ; 


ON  LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF.       275 

nor  can  they  "  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,"  unless  they 
believe  that  there  is  a  coming  wrath.  A  man  may  conduct 
his  secular  business  with  a  degree  of  success  under  some 
misapprehension  of  the  facts  on  which  it  is  based,  but  if  he 
misconceive  them  wholly  he  must  fail ;  and  a  man  who 
wholly  denies  or  perverts  the  facts  on  which  a  religious  life 
is  based,  must  fail  in  that.  But  in  either  case  the  more  per- 
fectly the  truth  is  seen,  that  is,  all  truth  that  can  bear  upon 
results,  the  more  the  man  acts  in  his  true  element  as  a 
man,  and  the  more  sure  he  is  of  success. 

We  believe  then  in  no  weak  liberality,  or  pretence  of 
breadth  that  would  ignore  the  vital  connection  of  truth 
with  life ;  and  our  criterion  here,  the  point  of  liberality 
without  narrowness  and  without  laxity,  is  such  a  belief  in 
all  religious  truth  as  shall  be  the  condition  of  the  highest  life. 

But  we  are  here  met  by  another  despairing  and  debili- 
tating assertion.  We  are  told  that  the  human  mind  has 
not  the  power  to  separate  the  truth  that  is  essential  and 
vital  from  that  which  is  not. 

If  by  this  it  be  meant  that  the  human  mind  cannot 
know  how  little  truth  a  man  may  believe  and  yet  be  saved, 
it  is  true.  Nor  are  we  required  to  know  this.  It  is  not 
our  business  to  judge  men,  but  systems,  and  neither  libe- 
rality nor  charity  can  require  us  to  confound  these,  or 
to  fail  to  discriminate  them  by  sharp  lines.  Charity  may 
make  large  allowance,  but  may  not  require  us  to  confound 
things  that  differ.  It  may  believe  that  a  Mohammedan, 
or  a  Deist,  may  have  truth  enough  to  save  him,  but  it 
cannot  deny  the  power  and  the  right  to  say  that  neither 
Mohammedanism  nor  Deism  is  Christianity.  And  so,  if 
among  those  who  call  themselves  Christians,  any  profess 
a  Christianity  that  has  no  redemption  in  it ;  and  if,  on  the 
best  comparison  he  can  make  of  it  with  the  New  Testa- 
ment, any  man  shall  conclude  that  that  is  not  Christianity  ; 


2/6      ON    LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 

it  is  no  more  a  want  of  charity  to  say  so,  than  it  is  for  a 
chemist,  after  testing  it,  to  say  that  an  acid  is  not  an 
alkali.  Let  men  use  their  intellects  freely,  fairly,  modestly, 
and  yet  with  a  confidence  that  shall  honor  God,  as  imply- 
ing that  the  faculty  he  has  given  for  the  discovery  of  truth 
is  neither  impotent  nor  delusive  ;  let  them  thus  decide 
what  Christianity  is,  and  then  receive  to  Christian  fellow- 
ship those  who  accept  what  they  conceive  to  be  its  essen- 
tial doctrines,  and  who  show  that  they  submit  their  hearts 
to  its  claims.  If,  in  doing  this,  some  should  include  doc- 
trines not  essential  to  Christianity,  it  is  to  be  imputed,  not 
to  a  want  of  charity  or  liberality,  but  to  the  imperfection 
of  human  judgment. 

Our  criterion  here  will  then  require  us  not  only  to  hold 
to  the  vital  connection  of  truth  with  life,  but  to  the  power 
of  man  to  separate  the  truths  that  are  essential,  not  to  the 
salvation  of  an  individual  man  as  he  may  be  dealt  with  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  but  to  Christianity  as  distinguished  from 
any  other  system.  In  such  a  belief  there  is  no  narrowness. 
In  anything  beyond  this  there  is  laxity  and  feebleness. 

But  thirdly,  we  inquire  for  the  criterion  of  liberality  in 
respect  of  conduct. 

The  criterion  of  liberality  in  belief  as  respects  conduct 
must  refer,  either  to  the  law  which  is  the  standard  of  con- 
duct, or  to  the  results  of  transgressions. 

If  we  suppose  a  being  morally  perfect,  the  standard  of 
his  conduct  must  be  a  perfect  moral  law.  Such  a  law  is 
required  both  as  an  expression  of  the  moral  character  of 
God,  and  as  a  condition  of  the  moral  perfection  of  his  crea- 
tures. It  is  the  fountain  of  order,  the  guardian  of  rights, 
the  only  impregnable  basis  of  security  for  the  universe. 
Can  it  then  be  asked  in  the  interest  of  anything  claiming 
to  be  liberality,  that  the  perfection  of  such  a  law  shall  be 


ON  LIBERALITY  IN   RELIGIOUS  BELIEF.        2/7 

impaired  ?  Ask  rather  that  the  brightness  of  the  sun 
should  be  dimmed.  Ask  that  God  should  abdicate  his 
throne.  If,  as  we  have  seen,  liberality  can  have  nothing 
to  do  in  impairing  the  rights  and  prerogatives  of  intellect 
in  its  relation  to  truth,  much  less  may  it  obhterate  moral 
distinctions  and  lower  the  standard  of  moral  action. 

But  the  real  question  respects  conduct  under  a  law 
trangressed,  with  a  possibility  still  remaining  of  forgive- 
ness and  restoration  to  full  obedience.  The  question  for 
every  man,  the  one  question  on  which  his  destiny  turns, 
is  whether  he  shall  ever  be  brought  into  full  harmony  with 
a  perfect  moral  law  ? 

The  law  remaining,  this  must  be  so  ;  and  being  so,  the 
principle  here  is  obvious.  It  is  that  nothing  can  be  allowed 
tfi  conduct,  whether  in  principle  or  in  outward  form,  that 
would  prevent  the  speediest  possible  restoration  of  ourselves  or 
others  to  a  full  obedience. 

But  is  not  God  merciful  ?  Does  he  not  wish  his  crea- 
tures to  be  happy  ?  Yes  ;  but  "  shall  we  continue  in  sin 
that  grace  may  abound  ?  God  forbid."  Little  do  they 
know  of  God's  mercy  who  speak  of  it  in  such  a  connection. 
There  is  in  it  a  depth  and  tenderness  of  which  they  have 
no  conception.  But  then  its  first  element  is  a  regard  for 
law,  and  any  act  of  seeming  mercy  that  would,  in  the 
slightest  degree,  impair  the  power  of  law,  would  not  be 
mercy,  but  an  act  of  indifference  or  of  weakness.  These, 
indifference  and  weakness^  especially  the  former,  are  con- 
stantly confounded  with  mercy,  but  no  contrast  could  be 
greater.  Mercy  is  not  compassion  ;  it  is  not  simply  bene- 
volence. It  is  favor  shown  in  accordance  with  the  honoi 
of  the  law  to  the  guilty  whose  punishment  is  demanded  by 
the  law  ;  and  the  weakness  and  indifference  that  are  in  it 
find  their  measure  in  the  agony  of  the  garden  and  the 
death-cry  of  the  cross.     What  Christ  did,  is  the  measure 


273       ON  LIBERALITY  IN  RELIGIOUS  BELIEF. 

at  once  of  the  value  of  the  law  and  of  the  depth  of  love 
there  is  in  the  divine  mercy.  Yes,  God  is  merciful ;  so 
merciful  that  he  gave  his  Son  for  us,  but  not  so  merciful 
that  he  will  pardon  one  sin  except  through  Him.  It  is  on 
mercy  thus  shown,  revealing  at  once  a  love  unutterable 
and  a  firmness  unalterable,  that  we  rely  for  quickening  the 
consciences  of  men  and  bringing  them  up  to  new  obe- 
dience ;  and  God  forbid  that  we  should  give  a  fair  name 
to  anything  that  would  weaken  their  sense  of  its  need,  or 
diminish  its  power.  Yes,  God  desires  the  happiness  of 
his  creatures  ;  and  therefore  sets  himself  with  the  whole 
force  of  his  nature  against  trangression.  He  has  provided 
for  every  inlet  of  pleasure,  and  for  every  spontaneity  of 
joy  ;  but  these  can  be  permanent  only  for  those  who  have 
never  wandered  from  the  inclosure  of  his  law,  or  who  have 
been  brought  back  by  One  who  has  sought  them  with 
weary  and  bleeding  feet  upon  the  dark  mountains. 

Let  men  but  draw  the  inspiration  of  their  lives  from 
such  an  apprehension  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  thus  coming 
into  full  sympathy  with  mercy  in  its  end  as  restoring  them 
to  obedience,  and  they  will  easily  dispose  of  many  ques- 
tions regarding  conduct  which  perplex  those  who  discuss 
them  on  a  lower  plane.  On  the  one  side  there  is  a  tend- 
ency to  austerity  and  to  forms  in  a  legal  or  a  superstitious 
spirit ;  and  on  the  other  to  ignore  the  inherent  and  essen- 
tial law  of  self-denial,  and  the  fact  that  a  Christian  is  not 
of  this  world  even  as  Christ  was  not  of  this  world.  But 
he  who  has  it  for  his  end  to  be  conformed  to  a  spiritual  law, 
will  not  rest  in  any  physical  suffering  or  outward  form  ; 
nor^  on  the  other  hand,  will  he  either  make  amusements, 
now  so  much  spoken  of,  an  essential  part  of  his  life,  or  rail 
at  them.  The  question  with  him  will  be  where  his  heart 
is,  whither  he  is  tending,  and  he  will  find  both  liberty 
and  liberality  under  the  great  law  of  Christian  self-denial, 
7* 


ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF.       279 

that  permits  a  man  to  do  anything  which  will  not  hinder 
his  restoration  to  moral  soundness  in  the  sight  of  God. 
Yes,  my  friends,  you  may  do  anything  which  will  ?iot  counter- 
work in  yourselves  or  others  the  work  which  Christ  came  to  do. 
In  this  is  liberty,  and  any  liberality  that  would  go  beyond 
this  is  license. 

Thus  are  our  criteria  all  practical.  They  are  simply 
the  conditions  requisite  for  the  highest  mental  and  moral 
efficiency.  Take  away  anything  from  the  sum  or  the  excel- 
lence of  being,  or  from  the  value  of  truth,  or  from  the 
power  of  the  mind  to  attain  it,  and  by  the  very  laws  of 
mind  you  put  it  under  conditions  less  favorable  for  mental 
robustness  and  efficiency.  And  so,  if  you  lower  the  stan- 
dard of  moral  law;  or  take  from  the  conditions  of  mercy 
their  legal  element ;  especially  if  any  indulgence  be  allow- 
ed that  iox  you  dims  the  light,  or  impairs  the  power  of  a 
self-denying,  humble,  prayerful,  spiritual  life,  you  preclude 
the  possibility  of  the  highest  moral  efficiency.  But  it  is  in 
and  through  moral  perfection  that  man  finds  his  true  end, 
and  no  liberality  that  would  lower  the  tone  of  this  can  be 
admitted. 

To  some  it  may  appear  that  the  criteria  proposed  are 
not  legitimate,  because  they  do  not  respect  directly  what 
is  true,  but  infer  truth  from  that  which  is  best  adapted  to 
perfect  man.  But  such  an  inference  will  be  least  distrust- 
ed by  those  who  know  most  of  the  works  of  God.  If  we 
may  not  make  it,  the  desire  for  truth  and  goodness  will 
thwart  that  for  perfection,  and  there  is,  in  the  constitution 
of  man,  a  contradiction  found  nowhere  else. 

Permit  me  to  caution  you,  young  men,  since  your  period 
of  life  and  the  whole  drift  of  the  times  is  likely  to  lead  you 
to  sympathize  with  those  who  make  liberality  and  broad 
church  their  watchword,  that  you  do  not  abuse  liberty.  An 
Apostle  tells  us  there  were  those  of  old,  and  possibly  there 


280      ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF. 

may  be  some  such  now,  who  spoke  "  great  swelling  words 
of  vanity,"  and  promised  liberty  to  others,  while  they  were 
themselves  "the  servants  of  corruption."  Always  liber.ty 
has  been  assailed  in  the  name  of  liberty.  There  is  no- 
thing new  in  this  claim  of  liberality  and  demand  for  it. 
It  has  existed  from  the  time  that  a  holy  God  laid  claim  to 
exclusive  worship,  and  established  a  church  that  should 
recognize  that  claim.  In  that  claim  was  the  root  of  a 
conflict  that  has  been  waged,  and  will  be,  till  one  party  or 
the  other  shall  triumph.  Let  men  yield  to  that  claim  as 
children,  and  we  ask  no  more.  We  can  be  satisfied  with 
nothing  less.  In  opposition  to  that  claim  there  was  always 
a  party  among  the  Jews  inclined  to  affinity  in  their  religion 
with  the  nations  around  them.  Were  not  those  religions 
equally  religion?  Did  they  not  bring  into  activity  the 
religious  nature  ?  Were  not  the  people  sincere  ?  And 
then  the  creed  was  less  exclusive,  and  the  worship  more 
attractive,  and  artistic,  and  compatible  with  freedom  in 
certain  practices  not  allowed  by  the  Jewish  law.  Why 
should  they  be  so  narrow  as  to  stand  aloof  from  all  others  ? 
The  whole  history  of  the  Jews  under  the  Judges  and  the 
Kings  is  little  else  than  an  account  of  the  different  phases 
of  this  struggle,  the  liberal  party  being  generally  in  the 
ascendant  ;  and  it  was  only  through  the  Babylonish  cap- 
tivity that  God  vindicated  his  supremacy  and  eliminated 
the  tendency  to  idolatry. 

Nor  is  Christianity,  as  claiming  the  absolute  supremacy 
of  God  over  both  the  life  and  the  heart,  less  exclusive  than 
was  Judaism.  It  did,  indeed,  throw  down  all  barriers 
between  the  Jews  and  others  ;  but  it  abated  nothing  of  the 
moral  claims  of  God.  So  Christ  regarded  it.  He  spoke 
of  the  "strait  gate  and  the  narrow  way;"  and  there  is 
something  ominous  in  the  sound  of  "  broad  church  "  when 
we  hear  Him  saying,  "  broad  is  the  road  that  Icadeth  to 


ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF.         28 1 

destruction."  So  the  Apostles  regarded  it ;  and  when 
that  same  principle  of  exclusiveness  that  had  been  quies- 
cent in  Judaism  became  aggressive  in  Christianity,  then  a 
liberality  that  could  tolerate  and  fellowship  everything 
else  revealed  its  quality  in  the  bitter  hate  of  ten  bloody 
persecutions.  And  so  it  has  been  since.  Of  everything 
else  but  a  church  that  represents  the  uncompromising 
and  exclusive  claims  of  God,  liberality  has  spoken  with  a 
bland  voice;  but  that  she  on  the  one  hand,  and  bigotry 
and  intolerance  on  the  other,  have  equally  persecuted. 
That  it  is  that  ecclesiasticism  has  frowned  upon  and  im- 
prisoned, and  that  literature  and  genius  have  caricatured 
and  mocked  at,  and  do  still.  Be  it  that  in  such  a  church 
there  may  be  found  hypocrisies,  pretence,  dishonesty,  mean- 
ness, narrowness,  and  even  inelegance.  These  are  fair 
game,  but  can  never  account  for  the  intense  venom  that 
has  tipped  the  arrows  that  have  been  shot  at  the  church ; 
nor  for  the  spiteful  and  persistent  vigor  with  which  they 
have  been  sped.  These  have  come  only  as  a  part  of  that 
"  irrepressible  conflict "  of  all  time,  that  has  never  failed 
to  show  itself  where  the  claims  of  God  have  been  set  up. 

In  connection  with  this  conflict,  in  which  no  man  can 
be  neutral,  I  wish  for  you,  my  friends,  no  needless  antag- 
onism. Whatever  may  stand  in  the  way  of  a  life  under 
the  inspiration  of  love  to  God  and  men,  and  in  sympathy 
M^ith  the  remedial  power  of  Christianity,  that  meet  and 
oppose  ;  but  have  no  mere  anti-isms,  and  make  nothing  a 
point  unless  required  by  loyalty  to  truth  and  to  God,  All 
wilfulness  and  false  issues  are  mischievous,  and  suffering 
from  them,  or  for  them,  is  at  best  useless.  But  I  do  wish 
for  you  in  this  conflict  such  a  belief,  and  such  an  attitude 
toward  it,  as  not  to  imply  that  the  martyrs  were  fools ; 
and  as  to  make  it  possible  that  you  should  yourselves  be- 
come martyrs.     No  belief— no,  I  do  not  say  belief,  I  say 


282      ON   LIBERALITY   IN   RELIGIOUS   BELIEF. 

faith  involving  trust — no  faith  can  give  to  life  its  highest 
inspiration  that  a  man  would  not  die  for.  Have  such  a 
faith.  Live  for  it ;  if  need  be,  die  for  it ;  for  in  losing 
your  life  thus  you  shall  "  keep  it  unto  life  eternal." 

But  shall  we  not,  you  say,  belong  to  the  party  of  pro- 
gress ?  Yes,  progress  in  light,  in  discrimination,  in  the 
detection  of  all  shams  and  hypocrisies,  and  out  of  the 
church  as  well  as  in  it;  but  especially  progress  in  love, 
love  to  God  and  love  to  man.  In  this  only  is  the  root  of 
a  liberality  that  is  not  pretentious  and  hollow,  that  will 
despise  no  one  and  persecute  no  one.  Through  this  you 
shall  grow  into  a  liberality  that  will  embrace  all  that  can  be 
embraced  without  defilement ;  and  all  narrowness,  bigotry, 
sectarianism,  will  fall  from  you  as  naturally  as  its  chrys- 
alis covering  falls  from  the  insect  that  is  finding  its  wings. 
Come  out  then  from  all  incrustations  of  narrowness  into 
full  Christian  light  and  liberty.  Whomsoever  God  loves, 
love  ye ;  whomsoever  he  receives,  receive  ye.  Join  that 
great  party  that  is  now  seeking,  as  by  a  divine  instinct,  a 
HIGHER  UNITY  IN  CHRIST.  Poudcr  morc  the  import  and 
the  implications  of  his  prayer,  "  That  they  all  may  be  one.'* 
Progress  ?  Yes,  progress  in  all  in  which  that  is  possible ; 
but  remember  that  our  great  business  here,  our  whole  busi- 
ness as  practical,  is  progress  in  conformity  to  those  fixed 
conditions  of  growth  and  well-being  in  which,  as  in  the 
brightness  of  the  sun,  there  is  no  progress,  but  which  God 
has  perfected  forever.  Learn  what  those  conditions  are. 
Accept  your  place  under  them  as  creatures  and  as  chil- 
dren ;  comprehend,  if  you  please,  and  if  you  can,  how 
conformity  to  those  conditions  promotes  growth,  but  know 
that  except  in  conformity  to  them  there  can  be  progress 
only  in  barren  knowledge,  or  in  delusion  and  folly. 


XVI. 

ZEAL. 

And  why  beholdest  thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye,  but  considerest 
not  the  beam  that  is  in  thine  own  eye  ?  or  how  wilt  thou  say  to  thy  brother, 
let  me  pull  out  the  mote  out  of  thine  eye,  and  behold  a  beam  is  in  thine  own 
eye  ?  Thou  hypocrite,  first  cast  out  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye,  and 
then  shalt  thou  see  clearly  to  cast  out  the  mote  out  of  thy  brother's  eye. 
Woe  unto  you  scribes  and  pharisees,  hypocrites  !  for  ye  compass  sea  and 
land  to  make  one  proselyte,  and  when  he  is  made  ye  make  him  twofold 
more  the  child  of  hell  than  yourselves.— Matthew,  vii.  3,  4,  5  ;  xxiii.  15. 

THE  most  dangerous  foe  to  Christianity  to-day  is  not 
open  infidelity,  not  a  false  liberality,  but  a  zeal  that 
puts  on  the  form  of  Christianity,  that  works  under  its 
semblance,  that  seeks  its  own  ends,  not  only  reckless  of  the 
degradation  and  perversion  of  the  religious  nature,  but 
through  that  very  degradation  and  perversion. 

What  then  ?  Shall  we  disparage  zeal  ?  No.  We  but' 
need  it  the  more.  Without  zeal  for  the  enlightenment, 
the  reformation  and  salvation  of  men,  we  have  none  of 
the  spirit  of  Him  of  whom  it  was  said,  "  The  zeal  of  thine 
house  hath  eaten  me  up."  Without  zeal  we  can  do  no 
good.  The  danger  is,  that  we  shall  not  be  zealous 
enough  ;  and  yet,  if  we  consult  either  Scripture  or  his- 
tory, we  shall  perhaps  feel  that  there  is  equal  danger  of 
our  being  wrongly  so.  We  do  not  need  to  disparage  or 
diminish  ^eal,  but  we  do  need  to  understand  the  charac- 
teristics of  that  which  is  legitimate ;  and  the  causes  and 
modes  of  possible  deviation  from  it.  It  is  to  these  that 
I  now  ask  your  attention  : — The  characteristics  of  a 

LEGITIMATE   ZEAL  ;   AND  THE    CAUSES  AND  MODES    OF  POSSI- 
BLE  DEVIATION    FROM    IT. 

Legitimate  zeal  has  two  great  characteristics, — one, 
ds  it  is  related  to  the  Intellect  ;  the  other,  to  the  Heart. 

***  July  26,  1868. 


284  ZEAL. 


As  related  to  the  Intellect,  zeal  must  be  enlightened. 
is  is 
imate. 


This  is  the  first  great  characteristic  of  a  zeal  that  is  legit- 


And  zeal  must  be  enlightened,  First,  That  its  end 
may  be  good. 

It  is  not  that  the  end  sought  by  a  false  zeal  must  be 
avowedly  bad,  or  is  even  known  in  distinct  consciousness 
to  be  so,  for  then  the  zeal  would  not  be  ignorant, — but 
that  the  real  end,  and  that  which  a  thorough  honesty  would 
discriminate  as  such,  is  not  good.  The  origin  of  the  igno- 
rance is  in  the  heart ;  on  moral  subjects  it  generally  is, 
but  still  it  is  ignorance.  So  was  it  with  the  Jews  of  whom 
the  Apostle  Paul  speaks.  "  For  I  bear  them  record,"  says 
he,  "  that  they  have  a  zeal  of  God,  but  not  according  to 
knowledge.  For  they,  being  ignorant  of  God's  righteous- 
ness, and  going  about  to  establish  their  own  righteousness, 
have  not  submitted  themselves  to  the  righteousness  of 
God."  Avowedly  they  would  submit  to  the  mode  of  justi- 
fication established  by  God,  but  really  their  end  was  to 
establish  one  of  their  own.  So  was  it  with  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  in  compassing  sea  and  land  to  make  pros- 
elytes. Whatever  their  ultimate  end  was,  it  was  not  good, 
and  they  so  far  knew  it  as  to  be  hypocrites.  Still  their 
zeal  was  not  enlightened.  They  neither  chose  a  good  end 
because  it  was  good,  nor  a  bad  end  because  it  was  bad, 
saying  to  evil,  "  Be  thou  my  good  ;  "  but,  seeking  to  grat- 
ify their  desires,  they  ignored  the  light  of  conscience  and 
reason  and  revelation,  and  worked  in  a  twilight  which  ena- 
bled them  to  call  evil  good  and  good  evil,  and  at  the 
same  time  maintain  a  good  opinion  of  themselves.  Such 
was  the  zeal  of  Paul  which  he  enumerates  among  his 
Pharisaic  accomplishments  when  he  says,  "  Concerning 
zeal,    persecuting   the    church."     This   was   an  ignorant 


ZEAL.  285 

zeal,  for  he  says,  "  But  I  obtained  mercy  because  I  did  it 
ignorantly  in  unbelief."  The  ignorance  was  from  the 
heart,  and  therefore  criminal,  but  still  it  was  ignorance. 
Such  was  the  zeal  of  the  crusades  that  again  and  again 
precipitated  Europe  upon  Asia.  Such  has  persecuting 
zeal  generally  been.  It  is  really  some  form  of  selfish 
desire  becoming  malignant,  and  blindly  seeking  to  destroy 
whatever  may  oppose  it. 

Secondly,  Zeal  must  be  enlightened,  that  the  means 
may  be  good. 

We  may  not  do  evil  that  good  may  come.  We  may  not 
enslave  negroes  out  of  pity  to  Indians.  This,  it  is  said, 
was  the  origin  of  the  African  slave  trade.  We  may  not 
deprive  men  of  their  rights  in  order  to  Christianize  them. 
We  may  not  do  anything  that  will  injure  the  bodies  or 
degrade  the  souls  of  men  that  we  may  get  money  for  the 
spread  of  the  Gospel.  We  may  not  rob  or  defraud  that 
we  may  be  able  to  give  in  charity.  The  essential  evil  of 
this  world,  and  of  all  worlds,  is  sin,  and  to  think  of 
destroying  sin  by  committing  it,  is  absurd. 

Thirdly,  Zeal  must  be  enlightened,  that  its  ends  may 
be  practicable. 

Human  power  works  within  limits  and  under  condi- 
tions that  make  it  necessary  to  consider  not  merely  what 
it  is  desirable  we  should  do,  but  what  we  can  do,  and  it 
is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  undertake  only  that.  But  men 
very  early  undertook  the  impracticable  project  of  building 
a  tower  whose  top  should  reach  to  heaven,  and  since  then 
there  has  been  no  lack  of  visionary  schemes,  or  of  zeal  in 
their  prosecution.  Mathematically  and  morally,  individu- 
ally and  in  communities,  men  have  been  at  work  to  square 
the  circle,  and   to  make  a  weight  lift   itself     They   have 


286  ZEAL, 

sought  n  univeisal  solvent,  and  the  philosopher's  stone, 
and  an  elixfr  of  health.  They  have  sought  universal  em- 
pire, and  uniformity  of  belief,  and  an  equal  division  of 
property,  and  an  absolute  equality.  Defeated  as  a  race  in 
raising  a  tower  that  should  reach  to  heaven,  individuals 
still  make  the  attempt.  With  the  original  builders  they 
say,  "  Let  us  make  us  a  name."  Let  those  do  it  who  can. 
Effort  that  is  not  folly  I  would  not  discourage.  Let  zeal 
touch  the  limit  of  the  possible,  but  let  it  be  so  enlightened 
as  to  waste  no  energy  on  what  lies  beyond. 

Fourthly,  Zeal  must  be  enlightened,  that  it  may  not  be 
sectarian  or  narrow. 

Sectarianism  is  blind  to  good  except  under  its  own 
forms.  When  Eldad  and  Medad  prophesied  in  the  camp, 
Joshua  said,  "  My  lord  Moses,  forbid  them."  But  Moses 
said,  "  Enviest  thou  for  my  sake  ?  W^ould  God  that  all 
the  Lord's  people  were  prophets."  Here,  in  the  man  who 
stood  nearest  to  the  founder  of  the  Old  dispensation,  we 
have  the  spirit  of  sectarianism  in  all  its  elements,  and  the 
rebuke  of  it  by  that  founder  shows  that  it  did  not  belong 
to  the  system.  So  too  was  it,  and  it  is  worthy  of  notice 
that  it  was  so  in  each  dispensation,  with  the  man  who 
stood  nearest  to  Christ.  "  Master,"  said  the  beloved 
disciple,  "  we  saw  one  casting  out  devils  in  thy  name,  and 
he  foUoweth  not  us  ;  and  we  forbade  him  because  he 
followeth  not  us."  This  man,  whoever  he  was,  cast  out 
devils  j  he  did  it  in  the  name  of  Christ,  but  he  did  not 
"follow  us."  But  Jesus  said,  "Forbid  him  not."  "He 
that  is  not  against  us  is  on  our  part."  That  God's  people 
should  be  prophets,  and  that  devils  should  be  cast  out, 
were  the  things  to  be  desired.  It  was  for  these  that 
Joshua  and  John  should  have  been  zealous  for  their  own 
sake  and  as  good  in  themselves,  whereas  they  were  zeal- 


ZEAL.  287 

ous  for  them  only  under  a  narrow  aspect,  and  as  related 
directly  or  indirectly  to  themselves,  and  under  all  other 
aspects  they  were  opposed  to  them.  That  this  spirit  does 
not  belong  to  the  New  dispensation,  this  rebuke  of  our 
Saviour  will  forever  testify.  Utterly  alien  is  it  from  the 
whole  spirit  of  its  Founder  and  of  the  dispensation  itself. 
And  yet  this  it  is  that  has  so  rent  the  seamless  garment  of 
Christ,  and  so  rends  it  now.  In  the  time  of  the  Apostles 
even,  so  prevalent  was  this  spirit  that  Paul  asked,  "  Is 
Christ  divided  ? "  And  from  that  time  till  this,  the  question 
has  been  pertinent.  There  has  been,  and  is  now,  zeal 
for  Christ,  but  for  Christ  divided ;  for  Christ,  but  only  as 
he  is  related  to  the  man  through  his  own  church.  Men 
will  be  zealous  in  promoting  the  cause  of  Christ  if  they 
can  do  it  under  their  own  form  ;  but  form  and  substance 
they  cannot  separate,  and  under  any  other  form  they  have 
for  it  no  eye  and  no  heart. 

For  the  removal  and  prevention  of  this  great  evil, 
greater  than  any  other  in  the  church,  we  need  to  substi- 
tute an  enlightened  for  a  sectarian  zeal. 

But  again,  Zeal  needs  to  be  enlightened  that  it  be  not 
partial,  taking  up  some  one  object  to  the  neglect  of  all 
others. 

Would  you  then,  you  ask,  disparage  men  of  one  idea.? 
Yes,  if  they  really  have  but  one  idea.  Just  so  far  as  they 
fail  of  comprehending  the  true  relation  of  the  different 
branches  of  reform,  I  would  disparage  them.  Intelligent 
concentration  I  would  not  disparage.  That  is  a  condition 
of  efficiency  ;  it  is  wisdom.  The  want  of  it  is  the  great 
want.  Let  a  man  say,  if  he  will.  This  is  my  field  ;  here  I 
will  concentrate  my  efforts  ;  for  this  object  I  will  labor  ; 
but  I  will  hold  it  in  its  true  place.  I  will  labor  for  it  as  a 
part  of  the  great  work  to  be  done,  central  or   incidental. 


288  ZEAL. 

If  central,  I  will  labor  for  it  as  central ;  if  incidental,  as 
incidental;  but  I  will  not  so  estimate  it  as  to  be  thrown 
from  my  just  bearings  as  an  intelligent  Christian  man 
toward  any  other  part  of  the  work.  Let  a  man  say  this, 
and  do  this,  and  the  more  zealous  he  may  be  in  any  one 
branch  of  reform  the  better. 

Once  more,  Zeal  must  be  enlightened  that  it  be  not 
frivolous. 

"  Ye  pay  tithe  of  mint  and  anise  and  cummin."  The 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  held  to  the  "  washing  of  cups  and 
pots  and  brazen  vessels  and  tables."  To  eat  with  un- 
washed hands  defiled  them.  To  heal  the  sick  on  the  Sab- 
bath they  esteemed  a  crime.  In  things  external,  ceremo- 
nial, unessential  as  not  involving  the  state  of  the  heart, 
they  were  precise  and  exacting.  Want  of  conformity  in 
these  they  visited  with  exclusion  and  persecution.  They 
strained  at  a  gnat,  but  passed  over  judgment  and  the  love 
of  God. 

Marvellous  it  is  how  this  folly  and  sin  has  repeated 
itself,  and  does  still.  The  Apostles  were  men  of  large 
views  working  for  spiritual  ends.  The  New  Testament, 
more  than  any  other  book,  insists  upon  principles  and 
ends,  regardless  of  accessories  and  details.  It  is  impos- 
sible that  these  latter  should  be  less  regarded,  and  be 
regarded  at  all.  "What  then.?"  said  Paul,  "notwith- 
standing, every  way,  whether  in  pretence  or  in  truth,  Christ 
is  preached,  and  I  therein  do  rejoice,  yea,  and  will 
rejoice."  And  that  was  the  spirit  of  all  the  Apostles. 
But  passing  from  the  New  Testament  to  church  history, 
we  find  ourselves  in  another  atmosphere.  We  find  men 
so  contending  and  dividing  on  points  incidental  and 
trivial,  that  the  "  Big-endians  "  and  "  Little-endians  "  of 
Swift,  whose  controversy  was  at  which  end  the  eggs  eaten 


ZEAL.  289 

at  Easter  should  be  broken,  were  hardly  a  caricature. 
And  so,  in  large  measure,  it  is  still.  Now,  the  zeal  is  for 
some  shibboleth  of  doctrine ;  now,  for  some  form  of 
church-government  ;  now,  for  the  mode  of  an  ordinance  : 
now,  for  vestments  and  the  shape  of  a  garment ;  now,  for 
church-architecture  and  altar  forms  ;  now  for  the  parapher- 
nalia and  artistic  arrangement  of  a  liturgical  service  ;  and 
now,  for  the  sacredness  of  consecrated  grounds  and  parish 
limits.  Sometimes  this  zeal  manifests  itself  in  the  earnest- 
ness of  a  genuine  superstition,  impetuous  and  uncompro- 
mising in  proportion  to  its  narrowness  ;  and  sometimes  it 
is  modified  by  a  predominating  sentimentalism  and  dilet- 
tanteism  and  foppery. 

These  things  may  be  thought  trifles,  and  in  themselves 
they  are.  "  An  idol,"  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  is  nothing  in 
the  world."  It  is  nothing  till  it  becomes  an  idol.  And 
these  things  are  nothing,  unless,  as  they  always  have  done 
and  will  do,  they  obscure  the  truth,  and  lead  men  to  "omit 
the  weightier  matters  of  the  law  :  judgment,  mercy,  and 
faith." 

We  have  now  considered  Zeal  as  related  to  the  Intel- 
lect.    We  proceed  to  consider  it  as  related  to  the  Heart. 

As  related  to  the  Heart,  the  great  characteristic  of 
legitimate  zeal  is,  that  //  must  spring  from  love. 

Love  is  the  actuating  principle  in  the  divine  mind. 
"  God  is  love."  Love  moved  him  to  create  the  world  ;  a 
greater  love  moved  him  to  redeem  it.  The  whole  mission, 
and  work,  and  sufferings  of  Christ,  were  from  love  ;  the 
zeal  that  consumed  him  was  from  that,  and  from  that  the 
zeal  of  his  followers  ought  to  be.  It  is  only  a  zeal  spring- 
ing from  love,  and  manifesting  itself  in  self-sacrifice,  that 
can  make  the  professed  followers  of  Christ  really  like  him. 
Such  a  zeal — zeal  from  love — would  be  in  opposition. 


290  ZEAL. 

First,  To  an  interested  zeal. 

"  Ye  seek  me,"  said  our  Saviour,  "  not  because  ye  saw 
the  miracles,  but  because  ye  did  eat  of  the  loaves  and  were 
filled."  They  sought  him  ;  they  had  taken  shipping  and 
crossed  the  lake  to  find  him  ;  they  had  zeal,  but  it  was  ^ 
inspired  by  the  loaves  and  fishes.  "Ye  know,"  said 
Demetrius  to  the  silversmiths  of  Ephesus,  and  to  the  work- 
men of  like  occupation,  "  that  by  this  craft  we  have  our 
wealth,"  This  was  the  undertow  that  bore  the  mob  of 
Ephesus  on  to  that  pitch  of  zeal  which  led  them  to  cry  out 
with  one  voice  about  the  space  of  two  hours,  "  Great  is 
Diana  of  the  Ephesians."  How  far  this  subtle  element 
has  mingled,  and  does  now,  with  zeal  apparently  religious, 
man  cannot  know.  In  primitive  times,  when  the  con- 
fessing of  Christ  involved  the  loss  of  all  things,  it  could 
hardly  come  in  ;  but  let  any  system  be  once  established 
and  the  pecuniary  interests  of  large  numbers  will  become 
involved  in  it,  and  will  be  affected  by  its  prosperity  or 
decline.  From  that  moment  there  comes  in  a  conservative 
element — mainly  conservative,  but  sometimes  aggressive 
and  destructive — that  is  aside  from  the  interests  of  truth 
and  righteousness,  and  may  usurp  their  place.  From  that 
moment  it  becomes  possible  that  everything  connected 
with  religion  should  be  conducted  on  mercenary  princi- 
ples, until  the  very  temple  of  God  shall  pass  into  the 
hands  of  the  money-changers,  and  it  shall  be  supposed 
*'  that  the  gift  of  God  can  be  purchased  with  money."  Is 
there  an  established  church  ?  Men  are  trained  for  its  min- 
istry with  reference  to  its  emoluments  as  they  would  be 
for  the  law.  Is  the  system  voluntary  ?  The  zeal  of  rival 
churches  and  the  eagerness  to  secure  converts  to  them- 
selves, is  often  not  without  reference,  conscious  or  uncon- 
scious, and  sometimes  painfully  evident,  to  pecuniary  inter- 
ests.    Religion  is  not  discarded.     It  is  professed.     Every- 


ZEAL.  291 

thing  is  done  in  its  name.  There  is  zeal  for  it,  more  or 
less,  but  individual  men  and  whole  churches  fall  into  the 
equivocal  state  of  some  of  old,  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  So 
these  nations  feared  the  Lord,  and  served  their  graven 
images,  both  their  children  and  their  children's  children  ; 
as  did  their  fathers  so  do  they  unto  this  day."  It  is  a 
state  of  things  that  perpetuates  itself,  only  with  a  tendency 
downward.  To  overcome  this  tendency,  to  resist  wholly 
this  pervasive  influence,  requires  a  singleness  of  purpose 
and  strength  of  zeal  that  can  spring  only  from  a  deep 
love. 

Secondly.  Zeal  from  love  will  be  in  opposition  to  an 
ambitious  zeal. 

"  They  desire,"  says  Paul,  "  to  have  you  circumcised, 
that  they  may  glory  in  your  flesh."  "  Diotrephes,  who 
loveth  to  have  the  preeminence,"  will  be  zealous  for 
everything  that  will  give  him  that.  This  is  less  general 
than  an  interested  zeal,  but  often  more  intense.  It  be- 
longs to  heads  of  sects,  or  those  who  aspire  to  be,  and 
to  leaders,  and  men  in  place.  It  originates  sects  and 
divisions,  and  perpetuates  them.  Instead  of  giving  due 
honor  to  that  only  name  by  which  we  can  be  saved,  it  per- 
petuates those  distinctive  names  by  which  men  so  early 
began  to  call  themselves,  saying,  "  I  am  of  Paul,  and  I  of 
Apollos,  and  I  of  Cephas."  Occasion  for  this  is  found  in 
connection  with  all  organization,  but  the  more  extensive 
and  permanent  the  organization,  and  the  greater  the  power 
to  be  gained  under  it,  the  stronger  will  be  the  temptation 
to  this  kind  of  zeal.  Especially  will  this  be  the  case  if  tem- 
poral be  conjoined  with  spiritual  power,  thus  adding  to  the 
fascinations  of  that,  those  of  wealth  and  pomp.  In  this 
way  the  most  tempting  prizes  of  earthly  ambition  have 
been  offered  in  the  name  of  the  Him  who  was  meek  and 


292  ZEAL. 

lowly  in  heart  and  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  But 
with  or  without  the  temporal  power,  it  is  possible  for  an 
ambitious  zeal  to  hold  the  same  place  in  the  leading 
minds  of  the  church  that  an  interested  zeal  may  in  the 
minds  of  the  many,  and  for  the  church  thus  to  become 
the  arena  to  which  shall  be  transferred,  under  another 
name,  the  passions,  and  factions,  and  compromises,  and 
management  of  politics. 

In  opposition  to  this,  how  beautiful  is  the  spirit  of 
Christian  preeminence  as  presented  in  the  Bible  !  "Tak- 
ing the  oversight,  not  for  filthy  lucre,  neither  as  being 
lords  over  God's  heritage,  but  as  ensamples  to  the  fiock." 
"  And  Jesus  called  a  little  child  unto  him,  and  set  him  in 
the  midst  of  them." 

Thirdly.  Zeal  from  love  will  be  in  opposition  to  an 
ostentatious  zeal. 

"Come,"  said  Jehu,  "  and  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord." 
Ostentatious,  is  to  ambitious  zeal,  what  vanity  is  to  ambi- 
tion. Vanity  is  the  more  common,  but  to  gratify  it  by  mani- 
festing religious  zeal,  requires  that  we  should  meet  with 
some  Jehonadab,  as  Jehu  did,  or  be  surrounded  by  those 
who  approve  such  zeal.  This  may  seldom  happen.  Hence, 
though  vanity  be  more  frequent,  zeal  from  it  is  less  so. 
Being  also  a  weakness  as  well  as  a  sin,  it  tends  less  to 
mischief,  and  may  pass  without  further  notice. 

Fourthly.  Zeal  from  love  will  be  in  opposition  to  that 
from  envy  and  personal  ill-will. 

"  Some,  indeed,"  says  Paul,  "  preach  Christ  even  of 
envy  and  strife  ;  supposing  to  add  affliction  to  my  bonds." 
That  zeal  is  often  heightened  and  embittered  by  personal 
feeling  is  well  understood.  But  what  an  exhibition  of  our 
nature  is  this !     Truth  is  impersonal  and  immutable,   the 


ZEAL.  293 

capacity  of  knowing  it  is  for  the  sake  of  goodness,  and  yet 
a  rational  being  professedly  pursuing  both  truth  and  good- 
ness will  sacrifice  both  from  personal  feeling.  Controver- 
sialists turn  from  argument  to  vituperation.  Luther  and 
Henry  the  Eighth  call  each  other  hard  names.  The  ques- 
tion between  the  champions  of  rival  doctrines  and  sects, 
and  between  the  sects  themselves,  comes  to  be,  not,  What 
is  truth  ?  and  What  does  goodness  require  ?  but,  Which 
party  shall  triumph  ?  This  is  not  peculiar  to  the  church, 
but  is  there  more  intense  and  unseemly — more  intense, 
because  religion  is  deeper  and  more  central  in  man  than 
anything  else  ;  and  more  unseemly,  because  it  is  so  utterly 
opposed  to  the  whole  spirit  and  end  of  the  religion  of 
Christ.  So  early  and  intensely  did  this  form  of  zeal  mani- 
fest itself  in  the  church  in  the  controversy  about  circumci- 
sion, that  the  Apostle  Paul  was  constrained  to  say,  "  But  if 
ye  ln'fe  " — yes,  dife — as  if  they  had  laid  aside  their  rational 
nature  and  become  dogs — "if  ye  bite  and  devour  one 
another,  take  heed  that  ye  be  not  consumed  one  of  another." 
This  is  a  point  that  needs  to  be  specially  guarded. 

Fifthly.  Zeal  from  love  is  in  opposition  to  a  malignant 
and  persecuting  zeal. 

"  Ye  know  not,^'  said  our  Saviour,  when  the  disciples 
would  call  down  fire  from  heaven,  "  what  manner  of  spirit 
ye  are  of."  Of  this  zeal  Paul,  before  his  conversion,  was 
a  conspicuous  example.  He  was  in  earnest  ;  so  much  so, 
that  he  was  exceedingly  mad  against  the  disciples,  and 
when  they  were  put  to  death  gave  his  voice  against  them. 
He  was  as  sincere  as  a  man  can  be  who  has  the  means 
of  knowledge  and  yet  is  in  the  wrong.  He  verily  "  thought 
that  he  ought  to  do  many  things  contrary  to  the  name  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth."  He  was  an  example  of  what  our 
Saviour  had  said,  "  He  that  killeth  you  will  think  that  he 


294  ZEAL. 

doeth  God  service."  Here  we  have  religious  persecution. 
What  a  phenomenon  !  A  man  arrogating  the  right  to 
come  between  other  men  and  their  God — the  right  to  pun- 
ish them  for  their  offences,  not  against  themselves  or 
against  society,  but  against  Him.  A  man  who  would  jDro- 
duce  conviction  by  stripes,  and  love  by  torture,  A  man 
who  thinks  he  is  doing  God  service  when  he  is  putting  his 
servants  to  death.  A  civilized,  educated,  professedly  reli- 
gious man  and  religious  teacher  doing  this.  And  in  this 
Paul  was  a  representative  man — representative  of  the 
most  envenomed  and  unrelenting  class  of  persecutors  from 
that  time  onward — representative  especially  of  priestly 
persecutors  clothed  with  civil  authority.  Strange  that 
frhere  should  be  such  a  phenomenon — and  yet  not  strange. 
Strange,  when  we  look  at  man  as  the  child  of  God  directly 
responsible  to  him,  and  see  that  every  man  must  stand  or 
fall  to  his  own  master.  Strange,  when  we  look  at  the 
meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ,  and  know  that  his  reli- 
gion— that  all  true  religion  is  love.  But  not  strange  when 
we  see  what  power  the  heart,  and  custom,  and  a  glozing  of 
fair  names  have  to  suborn  and  subsidize  the  conscience, 
making  it  call  evil  good  and  good  evil.  Not  strange,  when 
we  see  how  intense  and  unscrupulous,  and  even  self-com- 
placent, selfishness  and  malignity  may  become  when  they 
can  thus  seem  to  carry  the  conscience  with  them.  And 
when,  in  addition,  we  see  how  other  forms  of  perverted 
zeal,  an  ignorant,  a  sectarian,  an  interested,  an  ambitious 
zeal  may  become  tributary  to  this,  swelling  its  rushing 
tide,  we  no  longer  wonder  that  the  most  awful  scenes  this 
earth  has  witnessed,  the  tortures  of  the  Inquisition,  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  have  been  perpetrated 
in  the  name  of  religion.  Nor  is  it  strange,  while  ecclesias- 
tics, as  Luther,  have  often  been  the  first  to  catch  the  light, 
that  they,  and  especially  those  claiming  to  be  priests, 
8 


ZEAL.  295 

together  with  all  whose  living  may  depend  on  their  minis- 
trations, should  cling  the  most  strongly  to  that  which  is 
established,  and,  if  not  thoroughly  Christian,  should  be  the 
most  ready  to  persecute  those  who  refuse  conformity,  or 
would  make  innovations.  So  has  it  always  been  ;  so  is  it 
now.  Do  our  missionaries  meet  with  opposition,  or  their 
converts  with  persecution,  whether  in  heathen  or  nomi- 
nally Christian  lands  ?  it  is  from  the  priests.  Are  sects 
and  divisions  perpetuated  in  Protestant  Christendom  ? 
Who  does  it  ?  Certainly  the  ministers  of  religion,  of  all 
men,  have  need  to  pray  to  be  delivered  from  a  selfish  and 
persecuting  zeal. 

Sixthly.  I  will  only  add,  that  zeal  from  love  will  be 
opposed  to  a  temporary  and  periodical  zeal. 

"  It  is  good,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  to  be  zealously 
affected  always  in  a  good  thing,  and  not  only  when  I  am 
present  with  you."  So  early  did  this  unsteady  and  falter- 
ing zeal  show  itself.  And  there  has  been  no  lack  of  it 
since.  It  is  now  one  of  the  standing  reproaches  of  Chris- 
tendom. Its  causes  are  many.  It  is,  perhaps,  better 
than  no  zeal  at  all,  but  love  is  a  principle,  and  as  that 
gains  ascendency,  zeal  becomes  pure  and  burns  with  a 
steady  flame.  This  is  the  perfection  of  Christian  life — an 
intelligent,  affectionate,  constant  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  good  of  men. 

This,  my  friends,  is  the  zeal  and  the  life  that  I  com- 
mend to  you.  Your  value  to  the  world  will  be  from  the 
changes  that  you  work  in  it — changes  in  the  world  of  matter 
around  you,  in  yourselves,  and  in  your  fellow-men.  You 
are  born  into  a  state  of  perpetual  and  uniform  on-going. 
Nothing  is  still.  The  very  stability  of  the  earth,  all  stabil- 
ity but  that  of  God,  is  from  movement.     Into  this  state  we 


296  ZEAL. 

are  born,  not  simply  to  be  borne  alone  with  it,  but  as 
agents,  voluntarily  and  intentionally  to  produce  changes 
that  but  for  us  would  not  have  been.  This  we  can  do. 
We  can  make  two  spears  of  grass  grow  where,  but  for  us, 
there  would  have  been  but  one.  We  can  turn  our  own 
thoughts,  which  otherwise  would  have  wandered  with  the 
fools  eyes  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  to  the  comprehension 
of  the  works  of  God  and  of  his  attributes  and  character; 
and  our  deepest  love,  which  tends  so  strongly  to  earth,  we 
can  fix  upon  God.  We  can  feed  the  hungry,  and  clothe 
the  naked,  and  instruct  the  ignorant,  and  lead  lost  men  to 
Christ.  The  changes  we  can  work  are  wide  enough  and 
far-reaching  enough  to  awaken  our  highest  zeal. 

But  zeal  distinctively,  and  that  here  contemplated,  has 
relation  to  the  changes  to  be  wrought  in  our  fellow-men. 
To  work  these  rightly  is  the  highest  test  of  human  power. 
Not  the  direct  control  of  will,  which  men  so  much  seek, 
but  the  transformation  and  moulding  of  character  is  the 
highest  test  of  human  power.  And  now,  that  you  may  do 
this  as  you  should,  having  pointed  out  the  lines  of  possible 
misdirection,  I  call  your  attention  to  a  great  principle  laid 
down  by  our  Saviour,  which  will  guard  your  from  them  all, 
and  secure  to  you  the  condition  of  successful  work  accord- 
ing to  your  power.  That  principle  is,  that  if  you  would 
hope  to  reform  others^  you  must  begin  with  yourselves. 
^''  First  cast  out  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye^  Failure  in 
this  has  been  the  great  failure  hitherto.  Till  this  is 
adopted,  there  must  be  failure ;  and  for  two  reasons. 

The  first  of  these  reasons  is  that  he  who  would  reform 
others  and  does  not  begin  with  himself  is  a  hypocrite. 
*'  Thou  hypocrite,"  says  our  Saviour.  The  reason  is,  that 
a  genuine  opposition  to  evil  must  strike  at  it  wherever  it 
finds  it,  and  there  most  directly  and  vigorously  where  it 
can  be  most  readily  and  effectually  reached.     But  this  is 


ZEAT,.  297 

by  every  man  within  himself.  For  this  every  man  is 
especially  intrusted  to  himself.  His  business  is  to  keep 
his  own  vineyard  first.  For  the  detection  of  evil  within 
himself,  nothing  is  needed  but  a  thorough  honesty  ;  and 
to  its  removal  the  only  obstacle  is  in  the  will.  Just  so 
far,  therefore,  as  a  man  really  hates  evil,  he  will  begin  the 
attack  upon  it  within  himself,  and  will  carry  it  on  as  vig- 
orously there  as  elsewhere.  Not  doing  this,  he  is  a  hypo- 
crite, and  from  hypocrisy  no  reformation  of  others  can 
come.  How  can  it  ?  "  Who  can  bring  a  clean  thing  out 
of  an  unclean  ?  Not  one."  Reformation  is  not  the  thing 
intended,  and  like  produces  like.  There  may  be  zeal, 
persistent  and  self-denying.  Proselytes  may  be  made  ; 
but  water  does  not  rise  higher  than  its  source.  They  will 
be  proselytes  to  the  principles  and  tempers  of  those  who 
make  them  ;  only,  with  that  vivacity  of  a  new-born  zeal 
which  belongs  to  all  proselytes,  they  will  be  more  active 
and  worse  than  they.  "  And  when  he  is  made,  ye  make 
him  two-fold  more  the  child  of  hell  than  yourselves." 

Do  you  say  that  this  application  of  the  principle  will 
extend  fearfully  the  domain  of  hypocrisy?  So  be  it.  The 
principle  must  be  so  applied.  Truth  requires  it.  If  it  be 
not,  reform  has  no  starting  point,  and  the  condition  of  this 
world  is  hopeless.  Let  me  say  then  unequivocally,  that 
just  so  far  as  you  shall  profess  a  zeal  to  reform  others 
beyond  the  point  at  which  you  are  honestly  laboring  to 
reform  yourselves,  you  will  be  hypocrites.  Let  me  say 
also  that  there  must  be  a  weak  point  in  all  attempts 
at  reform,  and  in  all  organizations  for  that  end,  where 
the  principle  of  reform  is  not,  as  in  the  church  of  God, 
universal. 

The  second  reason  why  you  must  begin  with  yourselves 
if  you  would  reform  others  is,  that  clearness  of  moral 
vision  can  be  attained  in  no  other  way.     "  First  cast  out 


298  ZEAL. 

the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye,  and  then  shalt  thou  see 
clearly. '''  This  involves  the  great  principle  that  clearness 
of  moral  perception  depends,  not  so  much  upon  power  of 
intellect,  as  upon  the  state  of  the  heart.  This  is  a  great 
principle,  and  I  ask  your  recognition  of  it  in  all  your 
attempts  to  reform  yourselves  or  others.  I  ask  your  aid 
in  correcting  the  prevailing  undue  estimate  of  intellect 
alone.  From  that  is  knowledge  only.  From  that,  in  a 
right  combination  with  the  heart,  is  wisdom.  This  it  is, 
this  only,  that  lifts  us  into  the  region  of  clear  vision.  Not 
from  imbecility  of  intellect  is  the  Babel  of  opinions  on 
moral  subjects.  The  power  and  the  laws  of  intellect  were 
not  different  on  different  sides  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line 
in  the  days  of  slavery.  It  is  not  from  lack  of  intellect 
that  the  rumseller  pleads  for  his  nefarious  traffic  as  right 
An  intellect  with  a  bias  in  it  is  an  eye  with  a  beam  in  it 
and  however  strong,  cannot  be  trusted.  First  then  purge 
your  own  vision,  and  then  you  shall  see  clearly  how  to 
remove  even  motes  from  the  eyes  of  others.  Your  vision 
being  clear,  comprehensively  so,  your  method  will  be  right. 
Instead  of  a  biassed  intellect,  applied  to  remove  what 
intellect  did  not  cause,  the  blind  leading  the  blind,  there 
will  be  "  the  meekness  of  wisdom."  Instead  of  the  weap- 
ons of  controversy,  there  will  be  the  pleadings  of  love 
instead  of  saying  of  your  brother  that  you  have  gained  him 
to  your  party  or  sect,  you  shall  say  of  him,  "  Behold,  he 
prayeth."  Instead  of  the  low  and  solitary  joy  of  a  selfish 
success,  you  shall  have  a  pure  joy,  shared  by  angels,  over 
sinners  that  repent. 

Beginning  thus  with  yourselves,  being  always  as  severe 
toward  yourselves  as  toward  others,  permitting  no  severity 
to  become  harshness,  but  cultivating  "  the  meekness  of  wis- 
dom," your  zeal  for  the  reformation  of  others  cannot  be  too 
great.     Let  such  a  zeal  be  fostered.    Make  your  lives  more 


ZEAL.  -99 

and  more  fountains  of  good  influences.  As  I  have  said, 
your  value  to  the  world  will  depend  on  the  nature  and  extent 
of  the  changes  you  will  work,  and  that,  but  for  you,  would 
not  have  been.  But  of  all  changes  those  wrought  in  char- 
acter are  highest  in  their  nature,  widest  in  their  influence, 
and  most  enduring.  Change  matter  if  you  will ;  chisel  the 
marble  into  a  statue  ;  build  palaces  and  pyramids.  You 
do  but  change  the  relative  position  of  particles  and  masses, 
and  the  moment  the  product  is  completed  it  is  touched  by 
the  finger  of  decay.  Not  solidity,  or  that  intrusted  to  it, 
is  most  enduring  ;  but  the  reverse.  The  blind  old  poet 
of  Scio  utters  his  words.  The  thin  air  receives  them. 
Brass  and  marble  have  perished,  but  they  live.  It  was 
mind  changing  mind  in  the  realm  of  thought.  Change 
mind  there.  You  may  and  must ;  but  go  deeper ;  aim 
higher ;  seek  to  change  character.  See  all  faults.  Yes, 
see  motes.  See  them,  but  not  in  a  spirit  of  pride,  or 
satire,  or  censoriousness.  In  these  may  be  ability,  but 
they  do  no  good.  See  sins  and  faults  and  follies  only  in 
a  spirit  of  love  and  helpfulness,  desiring  to  remove  them. 
So  shall  you  enter  the  moral  domain,  and  work  changes 
there.  And  changes  there  shall  not  only  be  permanent 
but  progressive,  passing  on  farther,  and  spreading  wider 
forever. 

In  this  moral  domain  it  is,  that  we  find  the  stress  and 
pressure  of  the  battle  that  is  being  waged  in  this  world. 
This  is  central.  Of  the  seeming  conflicts  of  matter  this 
is  the  origin.  They  are  but  the  reflection  of  this,  and  in 
it  find  their  significance.  Without  this  no  waves  of  ocean 
would  be  proud,  no  tempest  would  wail,  no  thunder  mut- 
ter wrath.  Of  this  battle  the  forces  are  organized,  and 
the  Leader  is  in  the  field.  On  his  hands,  and  his  feet,  and 
in  his  side,  are  the  scars  of  that  great  conflict,  in  which 
by  dying  he  conquered  death,  and  "  is  now  alive  forever- 


300  ZEAL. 

more."  His  voice  it  is  that  calls  you,  saying,  "  Follow  me." 
Follow  Him.  Add,  if  you  may,  your  names  to  the  list  of 
those  who  have  gone  to  bear  salvation  to  heathen  shores. 
But  if  that  may  not  be,  wherever  you  are,  and  in  whatever 
you  engage,  follow  Him ;  He  is  the  hope  of  the  race. 
Finding  first  for  yourselves  the  light  and  strength  that 
come  from  Him,  lead  to  the  same  source  of  light  and 
strength  every  ignorant,  tempted,  struggling  brother. 
Keeping  near  to  Him,  you  need  not  fear  to  be  in  the 
thickest  of  the  battle,  for  above  its  tumult  you  shall  hear 
a  voice  saying,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you."  How  long  this 
battle  is  to  rage  we  know  not,  but  He  knows,  and  victory 
is  sure.  When  that  shall  come,  this  earth  and  these 
heavens  shall  be  reorganized  in  sympathy  with  moral 
order.  In  their  order  and  beauty  they  shall  correspond 
with  the  higher  moral  order  and  beauty  of  those  who 
shall  dwell  in  them,  and  that  order  and  beauty  shall  be 
perfect. 

But  what  place  will  there  then  be  for  your  zeal .-' 
Must  it  not  fail  with  prophecies,  and  cease  with  tongues, 
and  with  knowledge  vanish  away?  In  its  present  form 
there  will  be  no  place  for  it.  Beholding  the  countless 
throng  that  shall  walk  in  the  smile  of  God,  each  perfect 
in  beauty,  with  no  mote  even  in  any  eye,  "  without  spot, 
or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing,"  zeal  shall  expire.  Bu,^ 
expiring  thus,  it  shall  not  perish.  It  shall  be  only  to 
revive  and  live  again  forever,  transfigured,  glorified,  to  be 
known  no  more  as  zeal,  but  as  the  joy  of  a  perfect  com- 
placency. 


XVII. 

SPIRIT,  SOUL,  AND   BODY. 

And  I  pray  God  your  whole  spirit,  and  soul,  and  body,  be  preserved  blameless, 
UQto  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.— i  Thessalonians,  v.  23. 

IF  man  would  know  what  he  may  hope,  or  attempt, 
under  God's  natural  government,  he  must  know  what 
he  is  in  his  nature,  and  in  the  powers  which  God  has  given 
him.  If,  again,  he  would  know  what  he  may  hope  for 
under  God's  moral  government,  he  must  know  what  his 
character  is.  He  must  know  his  tendencies,  and  the 
direction  of  his  voluntary  activity. 

Hence  self-knowledge  is  in  two  directions.  The  ques- 
tion may  be,  What  am  I  ?  What  nature  have  I  ?  What 
powers  ?  Am  I  in  the  image  of  God  as  created  by  Him  ? 
Am  I  in  the  image  of  the  brute  as  developed  from  him  ; 
or  rather  from  that  ?  Have  these  powers  immortality  as 
separate  and  conscious  ?  Or  are  they  mere  upheavals  of 
an  infinite,  underlying,  unconscious  force  into  which  they 
will  again 'sink,  and  all  separate  consciousness  be  lost? 
Or  again,  the  question  may  be,  What  is  my  real  charac- 
ter ?  Disguises  aside,  and  the  glozings  of  self-love,  What 
are  my  deepest  tendencies  ?  What  is  that  supreme  end  to 
which  all  else  is  subordinated  ? 

If  a  man  would  know  himself  fully,  both  these  ques- 
tions must  be  fully  answered.  He  must  know  his  powers, 
and  he  must  know  the  direction  of  their  activity. 

To  which  of  these  forms  of  knowledge  the  injunction 

*+*  June  20,  1869. 


302  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

of  the  ancient  oracle,  "  Know  thyself,"  referred,  or  whe- 
ther to  both,  it  may  be  difficult  to  say.  Probably  to  the 
fiist  chiefly,  because  a  knowledge  of  character  could  have 
no  such  place  or  importance  under  any  heathen  system 
as  under  Christianity.  Such  knowledge  would  not  have 
been  philosophy,  and  could  have  gratified  no  pride  ;  it 
would  not  have  been  religion,  and  could  have  secured 
no  reward.  There  was  among  the  heathen  generally  no 
such  knowledge  of  sin  as  to  reveal  to  them  either  the 
importance  or  the  difficulty  of  this  kind  of  knowledge. 
Accordingly  the  current  of  speculation,  so  far  as  it  had 
man  for  its  object,  was  in  the  direction  of  the  powers. 
So  was  it  with  Plato,  and  so  has  it  been  with  the  philoso- 
phers since.  They  have  sought,  and  are  still  seeking,  to 
give  us  the  constituents,  and  to  unfold  the  nature  of  man. 
Here,  as  in  other  sciences,  the  obstacle  is  chiefly  igno- 
rance, or  a  limitation  of  our  powers. 

With  Christianity,  however,  this  is  reversed.  That 
assumed  that  man  is  in  the  image  of  God,  and  is  to  live 
hereafter.  Arid  then,  assuming  also  sin,  and  making  des- 
tiny turn  upon  character,  it  gives  to  the  knowledge  of 
that  an  importance  impossible  under  any  other  system. 
Hence  the  apostolic  precept,  "  Examine  yourselves,"  and 
the  great  standing  duty  of  self-examination  inculcated  by 
the  church,  refer,  not  at  all  to  the  nature  and  powers,  but 
wholly  to  the  character  and  moral  state  of  the  man. 
Here,  however,  the  obstacle  is  not  simply  ignorance  from 
limitation  of  the  powers,  but  from  a  liability  to  self- 
deception.  The  most  difficult  honesty  in  this  world  for  a 
man  to  practise  is  to  be  honest  with  himself  when  he  has 
done  wrong,  or  desires  to  do  so. 

From  this  importance  of  character,  and  the  difficulty 
thus  originating,  there  has  arisen  a  great  department  of 
Christian  literature,  that  of  self-examination  for  religious 
8* 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY.  303 

ends,  to  which  there  is  nothing  similar  in  heathen  litera- 
ture. There  is,  perhaps,  something  analogous  to  it,  as  the 
blindness,  and  inconsistencies,  and  folly  of  vice  and  of 
self-love  have  been  made  the  objects  of  analysis  and 
of  satire.  Into  this  region  of  character,  of  desire  and 
passion  and  purpose,  the  satirist  and  the  philosopher 
look,  and,  according  to  their  temperament,  find  food  for 
self-complacency,  or  scorn,  or  misanthropy.  Not  so  the 
Saviour.  Into  this  region  He  looks,  and  beholding  with 
an  infinite  pity  its  agitations  and  turbid  tossings  as  of  a 
troubled  sea  that  cannot  rest,  he  says,  "Peace,  be  still." 

But  while  the  Scriptures  thus  magnify  the  knowledge 
of  character,  and  assume,  rather  than  teach,  the  truths  of 
philosophy,  they  do  not,  in  thus  assuming,  ignore  those 
truths.  They  rather  receive  them  in  the  most  radical 
and  effectual  way,  making  them  pervasive,  as  the  atmo- 
sphere, so  that  while  they  will  never  be  obtrusive,  their 
presence  will  be  always  felt,  and  their  true  nature  will  be 
constantly  though  incidentally,  gleaming  out.  So  it  is 
with  the  Apostle  Paul.  Incidentally,  he  teaches  us  the 
true  theory  of  our  nature.  In  opposition  to  the  current 
philosophy  of  our  day  certainty,  if  not  of  his,  which 
teaches  that  man  is  composed  of  soul  and  body,  the  Apostle 
teaches  that  he  is  composed  of  spirit,  and  soul,  and  body. 
"  And  I  pray  God  that  your  whole  spirit,  and  soul,  and 
body,  be  preserved  blameless  unto  the  coming  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Let  us  then  inquire  for  a  little  into  the  grounds  of  this 
distinction — a  distinction  not  new,  but  generally  accepted, 
in  the  primitive  church.  That  we  accept  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  our  salvation  ;  still,  if  Christianity  is  to  stand  in 
its  full  beauty,  and  reach  its  full  power,  its  implied  and 
underlying  truths  must  be  rightly  held.  If  they  are  not, 
there  will  be  constant  outcroppings  of  errors  and  incon- 


304  SPIRIT,    SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

sistencies  on  which  skeptics  and  scoffers  will  take  their 
stand,  and  jeer  and  mock  the  passing  pilgrim. 

The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  comprehending  those 
underlying  powers  or  parts  of  our  nature  of  which  the 
Apostle  speaks,  and  which  have  thrown  and  still  throw 
obscurity  around  them,  are  found  in  three  words,  as  they 
are  applicable  to  man  and  related  to  each  other.  These 
are  imity^  complexity^  Tund  J)rogressive7iess.  Man  is  a  unity  ; 
he  is  also  complex,  and  progressive. 

First,  then,  man  is  a  unity.  This  we  know  by  our  con- 
sciousness. We  affirm  it  by  necessity,  and  cannot  doubt 
it.  He  is  a  unity,  but  not  a  unit.  What  a  unit  is,  or 
rather  what  is  a  unit,  and  whether  there  be  one  in  this  uni- 
verse, I  know  not.  A  grain  of  sand  is  no  more  a  unit 
than  the  universe  is.  A  unit  has  no  parts.  A  unity  is 
made  up  of  parts  that  find  their  unity  in  their  relation  to 
each  other  and  to  their  common  end.  The  eye  is  a  unity. 
It  is  one  thing,  one  eye,  but  it  is  made  up  of  six  princi- 
pal parts,  and  if  any  one,  or  certainly  two  of  these  be 
removed,  it  will  cease  to  be  an  eye.  And  so  man  is  a  unity, 
commonly  supposed  to  be  constituted  of  soul  and  body. 
The  body  is  not  the  man,  the  soul  is  not  the  man,  but  the 
two  united. 

Such  is  the  unity.  But  even  as  thus  regarded,  what 
complexity  have  we.  For  first,  the  body  is  a  unity ;  and 
in  it  is  a  system  for  digestion,  and  that  is  a  unity  ;  and 
one  for  circulation,  and  that  is  a  unity ;  and  there  are  sys- 
tems for  secretion,  and  respiration,  and  locomotion,  and 
sensation,  and  thought,  and  each  of  these  is  a  unity. 
Then  also  the  soul  is  a  unity.  But  that  is  made  up  of  intel- 
lect, and  sensibility,  and  will ;  and  each  of  these  is  a  unity, 
while  all  are  to  be  combined  into  the  higher  unity  that  is 
to  make  the  one  man. 

What  now  is  that  one  thing  which  binds  together  these 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,  AND   BODY.  305 

several  systems  and  makes  them  one  ?  Whatever  it  be,  the 
complexity  is  so  great  that  the  mystery  of  the  unity  will 
not  be  increased  if  we  make  it  greater.  It  is  to  be  said, 
too,  that  beings  are  higher  in  the  scale  in  proportion  to 
their  complexity.  This  is  on  the  principle  that  that  which 
is  higher  becomes  so  by  having  all  that  is  below  it  with 
something  added.  If,  therefore,  to  body  and  soul  we  add 
spirit,  we  raise  man  in  dignity,  and  increase  no  difficulty 
or  mystery. 

But  besides  this  difficulty  in  comprehending  man  from 
the  complexity  of  his  unity,  we  find  another  from  his  pro- 
gressiveness.  This  requires  the  unity  to  be  preserved  not 
only  in  the  midst  of  complexity,  but  through  such  changes 
in  the  mode  of  life  and  forms  of  the  being  that  it  is  difficult 
to  recognize  its  identity.  At  birth,  all  the  instrumentali- 
ties of  a  former  life  are  dropped.  At  that  point  there  is 
not  merely  progression,  but  a  new  mode  of  being.  There 
are  objects,  and  instrumentalities,  and  forms  of  being 
inconceivable  before.  And  then,  from  that  point,  what 
progression  !  What  a  change  from  the  infant  uttering  its 
first  faint  cry,  to  a  Newton  trembling  with  joy  as  he  grasps 
the  problem  of  the  heavens  !  What  a  change  again  from 
that  same  infant,  still  preserving  its  unity,  to  the  coffined 
dust,  and  to  the  possibilities  for  the  spirit  of  the  untried 
and  unending  scenes  that  lie  beyond  death ! 

The  full  problem  of  man  then  is,  first — first  practically, 
though  not  logically — that  of  his  end  and  of  his  law  as 
derived  from  that.  This  is  the  problem  of  Moral  Philoso- 
phy, and  is  for  all.  It  is  therefore  explicitly  revealed. 
Here  we  have  the  moral  law,  the  great  law  of  love.  We 
have  secondly  the  problem  of  what  man  has  been,  and  is, 
and  may  become,  in  the  unity  of  a  complex  and  progres- 
sive being  that  has  undergone  one  entire  change  in  the 
mode  of  its  life,  and  is  destined  either  to  undergo  another. 


306  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

or  to  go  out  in  annihilation.  This  involves  the  problems 
of  metaphysical  philosophy,  around  which  a  sea  of  contro- 
versy has  always  surged.  To  be  truly  man,  the  being 
must  retain  throughout,  the  constituents  which  make  him 
man.  Are  these,  then,  body  and  soul  ?  Or  are  they  body, 
soul,  and  spirit?  Is  there  a  spirit  distinguishable  from  the 
soul,  though  perhaps  not  separable  from  it,  as  the  soul  is 
distinguishable  from  the  body?  When  the  ruins  of  the 
fall  shall  be  retrieved,  and  the  ravages  of  a  penal  death 
shall  be  repaired,  is  it  these  three,  spirit,  soul,  and  body, 
instinct  with  an  immortal  vigor,  and  in  a  union  attempered 
to  the  harmonies  of  heaven,  that  shall  go  to  make  up  the 
one  redeemed  and  perfect  man  ?  This  is  our  inquiry,  for 
so  the  Apostle  seems  to  say. 

First,  then,  reversing,  for  convenience,  the  order  of  the 
text,  what  is  the  body  ?  and  what  is  its  relation  to  the  soul  ? 

The  body  is  commonly  supposed  to  be  mere  matter. 
It  is  not.  It  is  organized  living  matter  built  up  by  uncon- 
scious force,  and  includes  both  the  matter  and  the  force. 
A  tree  is  nothing  but  body.  A  tree  is  not  the  mere  mat- 
ter which  we  see.  It  is  far  rather  that  unseen  force  that 
has  worked  from  the  first  moment  of  germination,  and  de- 
posited every  particle,  and  protruded  every  branch,  and 
scalloped  every  leaf,  and  has  made  the  tree  to  be  a  maple- 
tree  instead  of  an  elm.  In  every  living  organism  it  is  this 
mimic  soul  working  out  the  pattern  of  its  home  after  its 
kind,  that  is  the  wonder  of  nature  and  the  ground  of  our 
sympathy  with  her.  This  unconscious  force  it  is,  with  the 
organism  it  thus  holds  in  its  grasp  and  charge,  that  is  the 
body.  This  is  the  same  in  us  as  in  the  tree,  except  that  in 
us  it  is  made  movable,  and  is  taken  up  into  relation  to  a 
higher  life.  In  us,  indeed,  the  body  is  a  double  set  of 
organs,  one  of  which  builds  up  and  repairs  by  an  involun- 
tary force  another  set  for  the  use  of  the  soul. 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,  AND   BODY.  30/ 

This  force  then  that  builds  the  house  I  live  in,  that 
digests  my  food  and  circulates  my  blood,  and  fashions 
organs  for  my  use,  this  house  and  these  organs — are  they  a 
part  of  myself?  For  the  time  being,  yes,  and  so  a  part  of 
myself  that  without  them  I  am  not  a  man.  They  are  not 
my  personality,  but  without  them  that  unity  which  makes 
me  a  man  is  gone.  Except  as  a  part  of  myself  that  house 
and  these  organs  become  a  corpse  and  return  to  their  origi- 
nal elements  ;  and  as  separated  from  these  the  soul  passes 
we  know  not  where,  and  exists  we  know  not  how. 

What  the  link  may  be  between  this  life  of  nutrition 
and  the  higher  life  of  the  soul,  I  know  not.  Let  those 
who  are  troubled  by  the  mystery  of  a  Trinity  in  unity, 
resolve  the  mystery  of  a  unity  of  two  hundred  and  four 
bones,  each  separately  formed ;  and  of  the  muscles,  more 
numerous  still,  that  cover  them  ;  and  of  the  stomach  and 
blood-vessels  that  build  them  up ;  and  of  the  nerves  that 
run  through  them  ;  and  of  the  brain  that  crowns  them ; 
and  of  all  these,  moved  and  built  up  by  an  unconscious 
force  with  the  higher  life  of  the  conscious  and  intelligent 
soul,  so  as  to  become  its  servant.  That  was  its  purpose. 
It  was  that  all  these,  in  their  unity,  should  become  the 
servant  of  the  soul.  So  it  ought,  but  the  reality  and  power 
of  the  higher  unity  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  the  soul  may, 
instead,  become  the  servant  of  it.  It  is  possible  for  the 
life  of  the  whole  man  to  be  centred,  and  by  deliberate 
choice,  in  the  nutritive  life  and  the  passions  that  connect 
themselves  immediately  with  that.  So  is  it  with  whole 
tribes  of  savages,  I  say  not  nations,  for  at  this  point  of 
elevation  the  idea  of  a  nation  does  not  dawn.  So  is  it  with 
gluttons,  gourmands,  epicures.  The  stomach  is  the  centre 
of  life,  and  the  intelligence  is  used  to  serve  that.  The 
soul  keeps  house  in  its  kitchen.  This  is  the  point  to  be 
noticed  here,  that  that  which  gives  unity  to  the  whole,  and 


308  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

is  truly  man,  can,  and  does  take  up  its  abode  and  find  its 
life  in  this  lower  part  of  our  complex  being  to  the  neglect 
of  all  that  is  above,  and  so  becomes  "of  the  earth,  earthy." 
In  the  language  of  Scripture,  the  man  becomes  "  carnal." 

With  the  intelligence  thus  employed,  the  higher  aesthe- 
tic, and  moral,  and  religious  powers  can  find  no  proper 
objects  or  scope,  and  all  their  manifestations  in  the  direc- 
tion of  art  and  of  religion  will  be  either  fantastic  or  hide- 
ous. Voluntarily  placing  himself  on  a  level  with  the  brute, 
passion  will  run  riot,  and  through  superstitions,  and  un- 
natural cruelties  and  lusts,  the  higher  powers  will  avenge 
themselves  by  degrading  the  man  below  the  brute. 

Such  is  the  body,  consisting  of  the  power  that  builds 
it,  and  the  structure  built.  In  its  present  materials  and 
functions — some  of  them  at  least — it  cannot  be  permanent; 
but  with  some  material,  and  with  some  functions  through 
which  the  soul  shall  be  in  relation  to  a  material  universe 
it  must  be  forever  a  constituent  of  a  complete  humanity. 

We  next  inquire  respecting  the  soul.  In  inquiring 
after  the  body,  we  simply  needed  to  transfer  to  man  the 
nutritive  life  of  plants,  adding  however  the  organs  built  up 
by  that  life  for  the  use  of  the  soul.  In  inquiring  after  the 
soul,  we  transfer  to  him  again  the  sensitive,  instinctive, 
and  directive  life  of  the  animal,  adding  all  that  is  built  up 
by  these  and  that  may  be  conjoined  with  them  for  the  use 
of  the  spirit.  Animals  have  instincts,  and  directive  pow- 
ers, and  natural  affections,  and  something  of  what  Kant 
and  Coleridge  call  understanding.  They  have  powers  cor- 
related to  this  fixed  order  of  nature  by  which  they  provide 
for  themselves  in  it,  and  for  the  most  part  secure  to  them- 
selves all  the  good  of  which  they  are  capable.  This  is  the 
special  characteristic  of  the  soul,  that  under  the  guidance 
of  instinct  and  of  intelligence  in  the  form  of  prudence,  it 
deals  consciously  with  a  fixed  order  of  things — a  nature. 


SPIRIT,    SOUL,   AND   BODY.  309 

In  respect  to  this,  the  animal  and  man  run  into  each 
other  by  imperceptible  shades.  In  its  lower  forms  instinct 
is  perfect.  There  is  a  tendency  on  the  one  hand,  and  a 
provision  on  the  other,  and  well-being  is  secured.  But 
among  the  higher  animals  there  is  diversity.  Different  ani- 
mals of  the  same  species  will  pursue  different  courses  under 
the  same  circumstances.  They  have  diversities  of  feature 
and  of  characteristics.  They  have  some  power  of  general- 
ization and  of  inference.  They  assume  what  are  called 
first  truths.  If  an  animal  does  not  state  to  itself  the  pro- 
position that  causation  and  the  laws  of  nature  are  uniform, 
it  yet  proceeds  upon  it.  If  a  bee  does  not  put  it  into  a 
geometrical  treatise  that  a  straight  line  is  the  shortest  dis- 
tance between  two  points,  it  yet  takes  a  bee  line  when  it 
has  freighted  itself  with  honey,  and  would  go  to  its  home. 
Here  man  has  all  that  the  animal  has  and  something  more, 
though  of  the  same  kind.  Rooted  in  the  same  soil,  he  is 
as  the  towering  tree  with  its  branches  and  leaves  and  tas- 
selled  blossoms  tossing  and  fragrant,  beside  the  lichen  hard 
by  on  the  rock,  or  the  moss  at  its  root.  Through  his  un- 
derstanding, and  the  instruments  with  which  he  is  endowed, 
especially  the  hand,  man  is  perfectly  fitted  to  deal  intelli- 
gently with  a  fixed  order  of  things,  to  profit  by  experience, 
and  to  subdue  such  an  order  wholly  to  himself;  and 
whatever  powers  may  be  necessary  to  put  him  into  rela- 
tion with  this  order,  and  to  give  him  dominion  over  it, 
belong  to  the  soul.  To  this  belongs  the  recognition  and 
articulate  statement  of  what  have  been  called  the  first 
truths  of  pure  reason,  those  necessary  affirmations,  always 
the  same,  which  are  implied  in  reasoning,  and  through 
which  alone  reasoning  can  fully  understand  itself.  On 
these,  however,  the  brutes  act  as  well  as  ourselves,  and  they 
have  been  unduly  exalted  into  the  highest  ground  of  dif- 
ference between  man  and  the  brutes.     To  this  belongs  the 


3IO  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

reasoning  power,  and  so  the  power  of  controlling  the 
mightiest  forces  through  a  knowledge  of  their  laws,  and  of 
combining  materials  anew  at  the  behest  of  use  and  of 
beauty.  Through  this,  man  can  construct  machinery,  and 
use  fire,  and  the  metals,  and  steam,  and  lightning,  and  the 
printing-press;  can  act  on  the  distant  and  the  future,  and 
can  rise  to  the  conception  of  law.  Through  language, 
experience  and  all  knowledge  can  be  diffused  and  trans- 
mitted, so  that  not  only,  as  with  the  brutes,  the  individual 
may  be  improved,  but  the  race  may  make  progress. 

Finding  his  centre  and  life  in  the  soul  and  in  nature, 
man  looks  no  longer  downward,  but  outward.  At  first  he 
cowers  before  the  forces  of  nature  and  deifies  them ;  but 
at  length  he  comes  to  know  them  as  uniform  and  controls 
them ;  and  how  far  this  control  may  go  it  is  impossible  to 
say.  Through  machinery  man  is  already  laying  off  on  to 
nature  his  heaviest  burdens.  Already  he  spans  continents 
with  the  iron  track.  He  makes  the  bed  of  the  ocean  the 
track  of  his  thought.  He  evokes  from  a  drop  of  water 
the  power  to  send  that  thought  with  a  speed  that  makes 
the  swift-rolling  earth  but  a  laggard,  and  confounds  our 
notions  of  time.  He  takes  apart  the  mechanism  of 
nature,  analyzing  it  into  its  elements.  He  traces  force 
through  its  subtle  transformations.  He  seizes  the  light 
from  the  farthest  star  and  wrenches  from  it  the  secrets  of 
its  home.  He  may  yet,  who  knows  .'*  navigate  the  air, 
and  parties  be  seen  careering  and  bicycling  through  it. 
Through  chemistry  he  may  combine  the  elements  into 
food  without  the  labor  of  tilling  the  soil. 

With  such  a  world  for  his  home,  and  such  powers  at 
his  command,  civilization  will  have  ample  materials  and 
scope.  Now  there  will  be  nations,  and  cities,  and  wealth, 
and  art ;  now  the  Parthenon  and  the  Coliseum.  Now  re- 
finement will  take  the  place  of  barbarism,  manners  will  be 


SPIRIT,    SOUL,   AND   BODY.  311 

polished,  and  nothing  that  can  minister  to  comfort,  or 
taste,  or  1  ixury  will  be  wanting.  Now  the  full  capacity 
of  man  for  achievement  and  enjoyment  within  the  limits 
of  nature  will  be  reached.  Here  we  have  the  sphere  of 
what,  in  the  Scriptures,  is  called  "  the  natural  man." 

But  in  all  this  man  can  know  nothing  but  this  round- 
ed, limited,  necessitated  frame-work  of  uniformities.  Ex- 
cept in  the  mere  notion  of  it,  sapless  and  powerless,  he 
can  know  nothing  of  anything  that  will  put  him  in  relation 
with  what  is  above  or  beyond  the  horizon  of  time.  What 
can  such  a  system  know,  what  can  it  utter,  of  anything 
beyond  itself  ?  Hence  the  time  has  come  for  the  reign  of 
sense,  and  of  experiment,  and  of  positive  science.  Now, 
what  man  can  see,  and  touch,  he  knows,  and  only  that. 
What  belongs  to  the  on-goings  of  this  visible  system  is 
real  to  him,  and  only  that.  Now  art  is  not  fantastic  ;  it 
may  reach  high  perfection  :  but  what  of  religion  ?  Reli- 
gion !  what  need  have  we  of  that  ?  God  !  what  need  of 
him  ?  Have  we  not  force,  uniform  force,  and  do  not  aP 
things  continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the 
creation,  if  it  ever  had  a  beginning?  Have  we  not  the 
To  Pan,  the  universal  All,  the  soul  of  the  universe  work- 
ing itself  up  from  unconsciousness  through  molecules,  and 
maggots,  and  mice,  and  marmots,  and  monkeys,  to  its 
highest  culmination  in  man  ?  Certainly  no  God  is  needed, 
a  miracle  is  impossible,  or  if  possible  it  cannot  be  proved 
even  by  the  senses,  and  the  idea  of  a  revelation  is  absurd. 
If  the  religious  nature  must  find  some  resting-place,  let  it 
make  the  unconscious  universe  with  its  sleeping  capabili- 
ties its  god ;  or  let  it  frame  to  itself  the  conception  of  a 
god  whose  work  is  finished,  and  who  is  enjoying  himself  in 
everlasting  repose.  This  is,  indeed,  just  what  those  who 
practically  ignore  the  spirit  have  always  done  and  are  doing 
now.     Yearning  and  groping  after  something  higher,  yet 


312  SPIRIT,    SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

recognizing  only  necessary  relations  as  in  mathematics, 
and  the  uniform  and  unconscious  forces  of  nature,  they 
transfer  what  they  thus  find,  and  only  that,  over  to  the 
infinite.  Of  this  the  result  may  reveal  itself  in  different 
forms,  and  under  different  names.  In  India  it  may  be 
Brahminism  or  Eudhism.  In  Germany  it  may  be  transcen- 
dentalism, or  positivism,  or  pantheism.  In  this  country  it 
may  be  an  humble  imitation  and  jumble  of  them  all;  but 
the  thing  itself  and  its  paralyzing  effect  on  the  religious 
character  will  be  essentially  the  same,  whether  at  Benares, 
at  Berlin,  or  at  Boston. 

Such  is  the  soul.  Some  would  make  it  include  only 
instinct  and  sensation.  I  would  make  it  include  the  intel- 
lect of  man,  perceptive,  and  combinative,  with  those 
endowments  which  fit  him  to  be  a  denizen  of  this  world, 
to  serve  himself  of  its  substances,  and  to  have  dominion 
over  it  by  the  adjustment  of  its  forces  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  own  ends.  It  knows  of  nature,  and  of 
science  and  art  within  that,  but  of  nothing  beyond. 

We  next  turn  to  the  spirit.  We  here  pass  into  an 
entirely  different  region,  and  hence  infer  a  difference  of 
soul  and  spirit.  If  there  be  a  distinct  function,  there  must 
be  a  distinct  organ ;  and  certainly  sense  is  not  more  differ- 
ent from  intellect  than  intellect  is  from  the  power  of  spir- 
itual apprehension.  We  here  pass  entirely  away  from  and 
above  anything  that  belongs  to  the  animal,  or  to  which  his 
acts  can  have  relation,  and  come  to  the  immediate  know- 
ledge of  moral  law,  of  a  personal  God,  of  our  filial  relation 
to  him  as  made  in  his  image,  and  of  our  responsibility  to 
him.  We  come  to  all  that  is  involved  in  prayer,  in  com- 
munion with  God,  in  loving  him,  and  in  making  him  our 
portion.  We  come  also  to  that  brotherly  kindness  of  which 
the  Apostle  speaks,  and  by  which  we  love  our  fellow-men 
as  the  spiritual  children  of  a  common  Father.     This  is  the 


SPIRIT,    SOUL,  AND   BODY.  313 

region  of  the  spirit,  and  of  all  this  the  brute  knows  aoso- 
lutely  nothing.  He  has  nothing  in  common  with  us  in  it. 
We  here  reach  the  region  of  personalities,  and  sanctities, 
of  that  which  calls  for  respect,  and  awe,  and  veneration, 
and  worship.  Of  all  this  the  experience  is  impossible, 
not  only  to  the  brutes,  but  to  mere  intellect,  or  to  taste 
knowing  only  beauty.  The  logical  faculty  with  its  concepts 
and  notions  cannot  compass  it.  The  intuitions  of  the  pure 
reason  do  not  give  it,  for  "  that  which  is  spiritual  is  spir- 
itually discerned."  There  is  a  discernment  by  the  spirit, 
not  merely  of  ideas  and  relations,  as  by  the  intellect,  but 
of  qualities  as  meeting  a  taste  and  a  want.  "  O  taste  and 
see  that  the  Lord  is  good."  The  brute  cannot  say  that ; 
the  intellect  cannot  say  it ;  nothing  can  say  it  but  that 
which  has  immediate  apprehension  in  the  region  of  spirit 
as  sense  has  in  that  of  matter.  Either  this  is,  or  there  is 
for  us  no  personality,  no  God.  It  is  through  sensation, 
which  is  feeling,  and  perception,  which  is  knowledge,  that 
we  are  conversant  with  matter,  and  in  our  knowledge  of 
the  material  world  these  are  blended.  So  they  are  in  the 
meaning  of  the  words  that  express  that  knowledge.  The 
word  house,  includes  both  a  sensation  and  a  perception. 
And  so  it  is  with  the  spirit  in  its  knowledge  of  spiritual 
things.  There  is  intuition,  apprehension,  knowledge,  but 
so  blended  with  feeling  that  they  become  one  and  receive 
a  common  name.  Only  thus  could  we  have  such  words 
as  obligation,  righteousness,  adoration,  love,  that  is,  rational 
love,  holiness,  and  godliness.  These  imply  spirit  in  im- 
mediate communication  with  spirit,  as  sense-perception 
and  words  from  that,  imply  intelligence  in  immediate 
communication  with  matter.  And  as  we  have  from  our 
intercourse  with  matter,  sense-perception,  including  both 
feeling  and  knowledge,  so  do  we  have  from  our  intercourse 
with  spirit,  senti-;;z^;//,  that  is.  from  its  etymology,  imme- 


314  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

diate  apprehension  of  mind  or  spirit,  and  including  both 
intuition  and  emotion.  Tliis  is  the  characteristic  of  spirit, 
that  it  does  not  deal  with  gross  matter,  touching,  tasting, 
handling;  that  it  does  not  analyze,  and  abstract,  and  com- 
bine, and  induce,  and  deduce  logically  ;  but  that  it  blends 
and  fuses  the  intuition  of  that  which  is  highest,  with 
emotion  ;  and  so  approves,  and  condemns,  and  loves,  and 
rejoices  with  a  "joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,"  and 
wonders,  and  adores.  So  does  it  become  "  the  rapt  seraph 
that  adores  and  burns." 

This  immediate  apprehension  just  spoken  of  in  the 
region  of  the  invisible  and  the  spiritual,  is  said  by  some  to 
be  by  faith,  and  it  is  on  this  that  they  base  their  definition 
of  faith.  But  since  evil  as  well  as  good  spirits  must  have 
this  apprehension,  such  faith,  if  it  be  faith  at  all,  cannot  be 
that  required  by  the  Gospel. 

But  would  not  man  be  a  moral  being  without  the  know- 
ledge of  God  ?  Yes.  His  moral  nature  would  affirm  obli- 
gation to  choose  as  between  higher  and  lower  ends,  but 
it  would,  as  I  think,  be  so  without  light  and  sanctions, 
that  its  impulses  would  either  simply  take  their  turn  with 
others,  or  be  wholly  disregarded  as  an  impertinence.  Such 
a  nature  without  God  would  be  an  organ  and  a  function 
without  its  proper  element  and  sphere.  Man  is  a  spirit  in 
the  image  of  God.  It  is  as  a  spirit  preeminently  that  he 
is  in  that  image.  God  is  his  supreme  end  and  good ;  and 
if  this  be  not  known  there  may  be  moral  phenomena  as 
blind  gropings,  but  no  working  in  distinct  light,  and  no 
moral  law  recognized  as  supreme. 

Such  is  the  spirit.  It  gives  us  a  sphere  above  that  of 
nature,  in  which  there  is  intuition  of  personality,  and  of 
what  pertains  to  that ;  and  in  which  emotion  is  always 
blended  with  intuition.  In  it  there  may  be  a  consciousness 
of  the  immediate  presence  of  God  with  us.     In  it  we  have 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY.  315 

a  basis  for  the  operation  in  us  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  his 
quickening  and  sanctifying  and  comforting  influences  ;  and 
here  it  is  that  we  find  the  sphere  of  those  who,  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, are  called  spiritual.  And  as  we  have  seen  it  to  be 
possible  for  man  to  concentrate  his  life  in  the  lower  region 
of  the  body,  or  again  within  the  on-goings  and  fixed  laws 
of  nature,  so  also  is  it  possible  for  him  to  concentrate  his  life 
in  the  region  of  the  spirit.  He  may  "  live  in  the  spirit,  and 
walk  in  the  spirit."  He  may  not  only  look  downward,  and 
outward,  but  also  upward.  The  failure  to  do  this  is  the 
great  failure  and  apostasy  of  man. 

The  view  just  stated  seems  implied  throughout  the 
Bible  ;  and  whoever  will  notice  it  will  find  it  implied  in  a 
large  portion  of  the  evangelical  sermons  he  hears.  If  we 
accept  it,  besides  throwing  light  on  important  doctrines 
which  cannot  now  be  specified,  it  will  give  us  first,  a  clear 
distinction  between  man  and  the  brutes.  We  can  then  give 
the  brutes  all  that  is  claimed  for  them,  and  still  not  rank 
with  them.  Let  them  generalize,  and  contrive,  and  even 
reason  if  you  will,  it  will  yet  not  be  claimed  that  they 
have  the  capacity  of  knowing,  or  loving,  or  worshipping 
God,  or  of  working  under  moral  law.  It  will  not  be 
claimed  that  the  alternative  necessary  for  moral  freedom  is 
possible  for  them.  This  distinction  is  of  special  importance 
just  now.  This  view  will  also  give  us  a  clear  distinction 
between  nature  and  the  supernatural.  Nature  is  necessi- 
tated, spirit  is  free,  and  all  operation  of  free  spirit  within 
nature  is  supernatural.  This  is  the  only  consistent  line 
that  can  be  drawn.  The  operation  is  supernatural,  but 
not  miraculous.  If  it  be  directly  by  the  will  of  God,  and 
the  course  of  nature  be  reversed  or  suspended  by  it,  it  is  a 
miracle,  and,  if  we  admit  a  personal  God,  any  supposition 
that  this  is  impossible  is  absurd. 

To  the  view  now  presented  objections  may  be  made — 


3i6  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND    BODY. 

some  perhaps  which  would  not  lie  against  the  common  view. 
It  may  be  asked  whether  the  spirit  can  exist  separate  from 
the  soul,  as  the  soul  from  the  body.  It  may  be  said  that 
our  Saviour  spoke  of  the  soul  rather  than  of  the  spirit, 
asking  what  a  man  should  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul, 
and  warning  us  to  fear  Him  who  can  destroy  both  soul  and 
body  in  hell.  But  it  is  to  be  said,  also,  that  the  words  Spirit, 
and  soul,  and  their  cognates,  cannot,  for  the  most  part,  be 
used  interchangeably  even  in  English,  and  that  the  contrast 
between  the  Greek  words  signifying  these  is  much  stronger, 
the  word  for  spirit  and  its  derivatives  being  generally  used 
in  a  higher  sense  ;  and  that  after  the  Holy  Spirit  was  given, 
the  use  of  the  word  spirit  greatly  predominates.  It  was 
his  spirit,  not  his  soul,  that  our  Saviour  commended  into  the 
hands  of  God ;  and  the  first  Christian  martyr  said,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  receive  my  spirit."  No  angel,  or  devil,  is  said  to 
have  a  soul.  They  are  spirits ;  and  it  is  the  "  spirits  of 
just  men  "  that  are  "  made  perfect." 

But  whatever  may  be  thought  of  this  division  of  our  na- 
ture by  the  Apostle,  and  I  suspect  the  Apostle  was  right,  it  is 
certain  that  the  three  spheres  of  Hfe  based  on  this  division 
are  recognized,  not  only  in  the  Scriptures,  as  they  are  most 
fully,  but  also  by  mankind  generally.  These  spheres  are, 
First,  The  Sensual,  having  its  seat  and  centre  in  the  body  ; 
Secondly,  The  Worldly,  in  which  life  is  centred  within 
the  compass  of  nature  and  of  time,  and  in  which,  as  I  sup- 
pose, the  soul  may  be  greatly  cultivated  while  the  spirit  is 
neglected  and  dwarfed ;  and  Thirdly,  The  Spiritual,  in  which 
man  "lives  in  the  spirit,  and  walks  in  the  spirit."  In  the 
first  of  these  spheres  the  appetites  bear  sway ;  in  the 
second,  the  desires ;  in  the  third,  the  moral  and  spiritual 
affections.  Into  these  three  classes,  in  Scripture  language 
the  carnal,  the  natural,  and  the  spiritual,  mankind  may  be 
divided.     These  three  spheres  of  life  there  are,  and  what- 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY.  317 

ever  may  be  their  basis  in  our  complex  nature,  it  is  to 
these,  my  beloved  friends,  that  I  wish  to  call  your  attention 
as  you  are  about  to  enter  upon  the  new  and  wider  respon- 
sibilities of  life. 

But  is  it  possible  that  any  one  of  you  shall  go  down 
and  abide  on  the  low  plane  of  animal  life,  and  sink  into  its 
indulgences  and  the  vices  that  riot  there  ?  I  trust  it  may  not 
be,  and  yet  it  is  possible.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  experi- 
ence and  observation  hardly  seem  to  diminish  the  number 
of  travellers  in  this  road  to  destruction,  and  many  educated 
and  strong  men  go  in  at  the  gate  that  stands  wide  open 
at  its  entrance.  Accordingly,  we  still  see  gluttons  that 
come  to  poverty.  We  still  see  those  who  "  tarry  long  at 
the  wine,"  or  what  they  suppose  to  be  wine,  and  who  have 
"woe,"  and  "sorrow,"  and  "contentions,"  and  "babbling," 
and  "wounds  without  cause,"  and  "redness  of  eyes  ; "  who 
say  "  they  have  beaten  me  and  I  felt  it  not,  when  shall  I 
awake,  I  will  seek  it  yet  again."  Yes,  and  those  lips  of 
the  strange  woman  that  of  old  dropped  "  as  an  honey- 
comb," and  the  mouth  that  was  "smoother  than  oil,"  are 
speaking  still ;  and  the  feet  that  went  down  to  death,  and 
the  steps  that  took  hold  on  hell  are  still  travelling  the  same 
dreadful  way  ;  and  there  are  victims  who  "  mourn  at  the 
last  when  their  flesh  and  their  body  are  consumed,  and  say, 
How  have  we  hated  instruction,  and  have  not  obeyed  the 
voice  of  our  teachers."  But  whoever  may  enter  this  gate 
of  sensuality,  be  not  you  of  the  number.  Dally  not  with 
the  allurements  at  its  entrance.  "Avoid  it,  pass  not  by  it, 
turn  from  it  and  pass  away." 

But  if  I  may  be  hopeful  of  your  escape  from  low  sensual- 
ity, what  shall  I  say  of  worldiness — of  that  world  which  the 
Scriptures  put  in  opposition  to  God  and  to  Christ.?  "  Love 
not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world. 
If   any  man    love  the  world  the  love    of   the  Father    is 


3i8  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

not  in  him."  What  world  is  this?  As  an  object  of 
love,  it  i-s  that  world  of  nature  and  of  time  of  which  I 
have  spoken,  seen  out  of  its  relation  to  God,  and  idolized. 
As  consisting  of  persons,  it  is  those  who  thus  idolize  this 
world  of  nature  and  of  time,  whether  speculatively  recog- 
nizing God  or  not.  They  may  be  formalists,  or  supersti- 
tious, or  skeptics,  or  even  atheists,  and  yet  the  radical 
character  be  the  same.  Most  men  love  and  idolize  the 
world  in  pursuing  the  ordinary  objects  of  gain  and  of  ambi- 
tion, but  do  not  justify  it  to  themselves.  This  you  will  be 
tempted  to  do,  and  this  is  your  great  danger.  But  as  edu- 
cated, you  may  be  tempted  to  do  it,  and  to  justify  it,  in  the 
name,  and  under  the  authority  of  science  ;  and  the  temper 
of  the  times  requires  that  you  be  specially  guarded  against 
this. 

You  live  in  a  day  when  science  is  making  great  progress, 
and  you  are  called  upon  to  advance  and  honor  science. 
Science  is  simply  a  knowledge  of  the  works  of  God  as  they 
are  revealed  under  uniform  laws  of  succession  and  con- 
struction. This  knowledge  the  Bible  favors.  It  tells  us 
that  "  the  works  of  God  are  great,  sought  out  of  all  them 
that  have  pleasure  therein."  Let  them  be  thus  sought 
out.  They  ought  to  be.  But  when  men  suppose  that  sci- 
ence is  all  ;  when  they  begin  to  talk  about  the  majesty  of 
impersonal  law  in  the  place  of  a  personal  God  ;  when,  in- 
stead of  making  this  magnificent  and  amazing  scene  of 
uniformities  but  the  outer  court  of  God's  temple,  they 
make  it  a  finality,  cutting  it  off  from  the  sanctities  of  reli- 
gion and  the  higher  glories  of  the  upper  temple ;  they 
dwarf  both  it  and  themselves,  and  not  only  make  that  which 
is  so  beautiful  in  its  place  to  be  an  insolvable  enigma,  but, 
as  offering  itself  to  meet  the  highest  human  wants,  they 
make  it  to  be  a  failure  and  a  deformity.  Science  is  good, 
but  with  no  revealed  system  to  meet  the  higher  wants  of 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY.  319 

man,  it  is  a  pillar  crowned  by  no  capital,  an  avenue  termi- 
nated by  no  mansion  ;  and  ignoring  that  which  is  highest, 
it  falls  back  into  rejections  and  pettinesses.  There  is  no 
narrower  man,  often  none  more  bigoted,  than  he  who 
thinks  that  science  is  all.  With  his  spiritual  faculties 
undeveloped,  self-complacent  from  defect,  plodding  and 
sneering  in  his  little  round  of  uniformities,  he  is  but  half 
a  man.  You  may  see  him  where  scientific  conventions 
gather,  with  his  plant-box  across  his  shoulder  and  his 
geologic  hammer  in  his  hand,  on  his  way  to  spend  God's 
day  as  a  naturalist,  instead  of  honoring  him  by  spiritual 
worship  with  his  people ;  and  as  he  goes  he  shall  meet  a 
woman  aged  and  blind,  who  can  see  no  plants,  who  cannot 
see  even  him,  but  whose  lips  move  in  prayer ;  and  he 
shall  think  of  her  only  as  a  poor  specimen  of  Natural 
History ;  and  he  may  be  the  greatest  among  naturalists, 
and  she  may  be  the  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  bi*t 
she  is  greater  than  he.  She  is  greater  because  she 
belongs,  and  he  does  not,  to  a  kingdom  of  purity  and  joy 
and  free  service,  having  God  for  its  light  and  centre,  and 
love  for  its  gravitating  force,  and  in  which  science  but  fur- 
nishes the  ground  under  their  feet  from  which  its  subjects 
may  rise  into  their  true  life.  Science  is  good.  It  gives 
control  over  nature.  It  is  the  basis  of  art.  It  ministers 
to  comfort  and  to  taste.  But  it  eradicates  no  evil  passion. 
It  does  not  reach  the  deep  springs  of  human  action,  so  as 
to  control  character;  and  hence  it  cannot  renovate  soci- 
ety. It  can  assuage  no  grief  It  stands  at  the  door  of 
the  tomb  and  is  dumb.  It  knows  nothing  of  sin,  or  of 
redemption,  or  of  prayer  and  communion  with  God,  or  of 
a  judgment  day.  It  has  not  one  property  of  a  corner-stone 
on  which  you  can  build  for  eternity.  Give  science  then 
its  place  and  full  scope.     Study  the  works  of  God  j  but 


320  SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY. 

Study  them  as  his  works,  and  so  as  to  bring  you  nearer  to 
Him. 

Nearer  to  God — that  is  what  we  need.  God  is  a  spirit. 
We  are  in  his  image.  A  spiritual  life  pervaded  by  the 
worship  of  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth  is  therefore  our  true 
life.  Away  from  the  life  of  the  flesh,  and  the  love  of  the 
world,  I  now  call  you  to  this.  I  call  you  to  walk,  like  one 
of  old,  with  God.  Failing  of  this  you  will  fail  of  that 
which  is  highest,  and,  severed  from  the  source  of  life,  your 
failure  will  be  final  and  utter.  "  To  be  carnally  minded  is 
death  ;  but  to  be  spiritually  minded  is  life  and  peace."  If 
the  race  could  but  be  lifted  up  to  this,  the  great  adjust- 
ments needed  would  take  place  of  themselves.  Knowing 
himself,  and  knowing  the  Bible  as  God's  provision  for  his 
spiritual  life  as  nature  is  for  his  animal  life,  the  higher 
and  lower  natures  of  man,  man  and  nature,  and  nature 
and  the  Bible  would  come  into  accord.  Knowledge, 
and  the  inventions  and  power  rhat  come  through  that, 
would  be  greatly  increased.  Soliciting  her  by  the  hand 
of  a  more  skilful  and  loving  science,  man  would  be 
nourished  at  the  breasts  of  a  nature  more  plastic  and 
richer  than  now.  No  longer  infidel,  like  the  Hebrew 
mother  of  old,  nature  would  take  man  as  at  once  her  own 
and  her  foster  child,  and  bring  him  up  for  God.  The 
region  of  spiritual  life  would  no  longer  be,  or  seem  to  any, 
one  of  mysticism,  or  uncertainty,  or  gloom.  So  it  was 
not  to  the  Apostle.  So  it  will  not  be  to  you,  my  friends, 
if,  holding  body  and  soul,  nature  and  science  in  their  own 
place,  you  shall  centre  your  life  in  the  spirit,  and  seek  in 
yourselves  and  in  others  the  welfare  of  that.  So  doing, 
all  other  ends  must  fall  into  subordination  to  moral  and 
spiritual  ends,  and  your  first  and  most  urgent  need  will  be 
seen  to  be,  not  wealth  or  honor  ;  not  even  what  you  shall 
eat,  or  what  you  shall  drink,  or  wherewithal  you  shall  be 


SPIRIT,   SOUL,   AND   BODY.  32 1 

clothed  ;  but  that  blamelessness  of  the  "  whole  spirit  and 
soul  and  body "  for  which  the  Apostle  prays.  Guilt, 
guilt,  and  not  ignorance  or  poverty,  you  will  see  to  be  the 
great  obstacle  to  be  taken  out  of  the  way. 

And  as  moral  and  spiritual  ends  will  subordinate  all 
things  to  themselves  in  your  own  life,  so  will  they,  as  they 
shape  the  future  revealed  in  the  Bible,  shape  all  your 
expectations  of  the  future.  You  will  not  look  forward,  as 
many  do,  to  the  continuance  forever  of  a  nature,  embosom- 
ing physical  science  indeed,  and  beautiful  in  many  of  its 
aspects,  but  yet  evidently  out  of  harmony  with  man  and  sym- 
pathizing with  his  unrest.  You  will  heed  the  prophecies  in 
nature  herself  from  former  upheavals  and  overturnings,  of 
another  yet  to  come  ;  and  you  will  look  for  this,  not  from 
any  upward  movement  of  blind  forces,  but  from  the  com- 
ing of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  will  raise  the  dead,  and 
judge  the  world,  and  bring  in  everlasting  righteousness. 

NOTE. 

The  doctrine  of  the  foregoing  discourse  is  not  newly  adopted  by 
me.  On  the  158th  page  of  my  Lectures  on  Moral  Science  it  is 
said  : — '*  Here  it  is  that  we  find  the  ground  and  necessity  of  a  three- 
fold division  of  man  into  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  which  the  Scriptures 
seem  to  recognize,  and  which  philosophy  will  be  compelled  to  adopt." 
The  doctrine  is  now  awakening  increased  interest,  and  I  desire  to 
call  attention  to  an  able  English  work  upon  it  which  I  have  recently 
seen— The  "  Tripartite  Nature  of  Man,"  by  the  Rvv.  J.  B.  Heard. 


XVIII. 

LIFE. 

For  whosoever  will  save  his  life,  shall  lose  it ;  and  whosoever  will  lose  his  life 
for  my  sake  shall  find  it.— Matthew,  xvi.  25. 

NO  less  than  six  times  is  this  passage,  or  its  equiv- 
alent, given  us  by  the  Evangelists  :  "  For  whosoever 
will  save  his  life,  shall  lose  it :  and  whosoever  will  lose  his 
life  for  my  sake,  shall  find  it."  This  indicates  its  deep 
significance  and  central  position  in  the  Christian  system. 
This  significance  and  position  it  has,  whether  we  consider 
the  subject  spoken  of,  or  the  principle  involved.  The 
subject  spoken  of  is  Life.  The  principle  involved  is  self- 
renunciation,  even  to  the  loss  of  life,  for  Christ's  sake,  and 
the  gain  through  that  of  life  eternal. 

To  this  subject,  and  this  principle,  I  now  invite  your 
attention. 

And  first,  of  Life.  What  is  that  life  which  we  are  to 
lose  that  we  may  gain  one  that  is  better  ?  What  is  that 
better  life  which  we  are  thus  to  gain  ? 

Life  !  What  is  life  ?  Life  is  a  force.  What  is  force  ? 
With  this,  and  the  idea  of  it,  we  are  early  familiar.  The 
infant  knows  it  when  it  first  stretches  forth  its  little  hand, 
or  feels  the  pressure  of  its  mother's  arms ;  and  a  large 
portion  of  the  experience  of  subsequent  life  consists  either 
in  the  putting  forth  of  force,  or  in  feeling  and  observing  its 
effects.  No  change  that  we  observe,  no  movement  is  pro- 
duced without  it.     At  first  many  things  around  us,  as  the 

***  June  26,  1870. 


LIFE.  323 

rock  and  the  earth,  seem  devoid  of  force  and  at  rest.  But 
smite  the  rock  and  you  will  find  a  force  of  cohesion  that 
will  prevent  its  particles  from  flying  asunder ;  and  as  for 
the  earth,  we  know  that  it  is  rolled  on  its  axis,  and  whirled 
in  its  orbit,  by  a  force  for  which  we  have  no  measure.  In- 
vestigating further,  we  find  that  without  force,  matter 
has  no  consistency,  and  that,  in  its  wider  relations,  it  has 
no  stability  except  through  uniform  motion,  produced  by 
uniform  force. 

Thus  does  this  familiar  acquaintance  of  our  infancy  not 
only  reveal  itself  where  it  was  least  expected,  in  the  inner- 
most constitution  of  matter,  but  it  spreads  itself  through 
immensity,  urging  the  planets  on  their  way,  and  holding 
the  stellar  heavens  in  its  grasp. 

Here  we  have  two  things,  matter  and  force,  and  it  will 
be  seen  that  force  reveals  itself  only  through  motion  or  the 
resistance  of  motion,  and  equally  through  each.  The  mo- 
tion, therefore,  is  not  the  force.  The  force  is  the  cause 
both  of  the  motion  and  of  the  resistance,  and  till  we  reach 
a  power  to  originate  motion  we  have  no  original  force. 
To  say,  as  some  do,  that  motion  is  force,  is  to  make  mo 
tion  the  cause  of  motion,  and  any  beginning  of  motion 
impossible. 

As  revealed  through  motion,  force  is  manifested  undei 
three  aspects — as  aimless ;  as  orderly,  but  necessitated  ; 
and  as  under  the  guidance  of  choice  and  will. 

Of  force  as  operating,  or  seeming  to  operate  aimlessly, 
we  have  examples  in  chaos,  in  the  winds,  and  in  the  ocean 
when  it  tosses  and  whirls  matter,  and  causes  it  to  heave 
and  surge  without  order,  and  with  no  apparent  reference 
to  an  end.  So  far  as  we  can  see,  this  might  be,  and  go 
on  forever.  Here  we  have  matter  and  force  simply,  and 
and  all  that  belongs  to  them  of  their  own  right. 

Before  these,  as  thus  exhibited,  the  human  mind  stands 


324 


LIFE. 


hopelessly.  It  knows  the  spectacle  as  a  fact,  but  can 
have  no  communion  with  it.  There  is  in  it  no  thought, 
and  no  basis  for  science. 

We  also  see  force  necessitated,  but  acting,  by  what  is 
equivalent  to  an  instinct,  in  subordination  to  the  idea  of 
order.  Order  reveals  itself  in  regularity  of  form,  or  of  move- 
ment. Primarily  it  is  regularity  of  movement.  This  may 
either  petrify  its  material  in  fixed  forms,  as  in  the  crystal, 
or  become  established,  as  in  the  heavens,  and  abide  from 
age  to  age,  a  spectacle  of  force  acting  permanently  in  sub- 
ordination to  the  idea  of  order. 

With  matter  and  force  thus  manifested,  the  human 
mind  comes  into  sympathy.  Form  and  movement  now 
express  ideas,  and  science  becomes  possible. 

Groping  among  a  shapeless  mass,  an  explorer  lights 
upon  a  crystal.  It  delights  the  eye  by  its  brilliancy,  but 
it  delights  the  mind  more  by  the  regularity  of  its  form. 
At  once  the  man  seizes  the  crystal.  It  satisfies  no  animal 
want,  but  he  admires  it,  exhibits  it,  and  lays  it  up  among 
his  treasures. 

Searching  now  into  the  manifestation  of  force  as  seen 
in  the  crystal,  we  find  a  force  in  different  kinds  of  matter 
tending  to  crystallize  it  in  different  forms.  These  forms 
we  find  to  be  geometric,  as  the  cube,  the  rhomboid,  the 
hexahedron.  Toward  one  of  these  we  find  that  the  car- 
bon of  the  diamond  is  striving,  toward  another  the  quartz 
of  the  rock  cyrstal,  and  toward  another  the  lime  of  the 
calc-spar.  Thus  do  we  find  through  this  form  of  force,  not 
merely  ideas,  but  ideals^  and  we  find  each  kind  of  matter 
striving  after  its  own  ideal.  That  ideal  is  seldom  reached 
perfectly,  but  it  is  never  lost  sight  of,  and  it  is  one  of  the 
delights  of  science  to  trace  the  doublings  and  disguises 
under  which  it  is  sought. 

But  while  we  thus  find  in  the  crystal  a  basis  for  science, 

TO 


LIFE.  325 

we  also  find  that  which  baffles  science.  Analyze  it. 
You  have  the  same  particles,  the  same  weight,  but  they 
are  only  the  corpse  of  the  crystal.  That  you  have  not,  and 
human  power  can  no  more  restore  it  than  it  can  raise  a 
dead  body  to  life.  True,  there  is  a  power  of  reproduc- 
tion which  may  be  said  to  answer  to  the  seed  in  the 
plant.  Place  these  same  particles  so  that  they  can  move 
freely  among  themselves  ;  plant  them,  and  they  will  again 
assume  the  same  form.  There  will  be  a  resurrection. 
There  will  be  that,  and  that  is  all  we  know  about  it.  No 
microscope,  no  test  will  enable  us  to  discover  any  fit- 
ness or  tendency  in  the  particles  to  assume  this  form,  or 
to  detect  the  force  which  controls  them.  We  may  say,  if 
we  please,  that  it  is  2.property  of  such  matter  to  combine 
thus,  but  that  is  only  another  mode  of  stating  the  fact. 
We  simply  know  from  observation  that  there  is  an  uncon- 
scious, necessitated  movement  subordinated  to  the  idea  of 
order.  That  movement  and  its  result  we  record,  and  call 
it  science. 

And  this  is  7iature  and  the  whole  of  it.  Wherever  we 
have  a  force  that  gives  no  evidence  of  self-comprehension, 
or  of  comprehending  its  end  as  compared  with  other  ends, 
we  have  nature;  and  physical  science  is  nothing  more 
than  a  record  of  the  movements  and  results  of  matter  con- 
trolled by  such  a  force.  With  favoring  conditions  such  a 
force  will  go  on  to  its  end  with  a  precision  that  mocks 
human  skill.  Baffle  it,  and  it  will  go  on  still,  and  work  out 
monstrosities.  Such  a  force  is  not  aimless,  but  it  is  un- 
swerving.    It  hears  no  cry,  and  recks  of  no  consequences. 

Of  force  acting  thus  there  are  as  many  varieties  as  there 
are  forms  of  matter,  perhaps  more.  Recently  some  forces 
of  this  kind  have  been  supposed  to  be  correlated;  which 
means  that  they  are  fundamentally  one  thing  manifesting 
tself  under  different  forms  of  motion.     It  is  supposed,  and 


326  LIFE. 

some  think  proved,  that  it  is  the  same  agent  or  force  that, 
as  heat,  cooks  the  dinner  of  the  mariner ;  and  as  magnet- 
ism, gives  direction  to  the  needle  of  his  compass ;  and  as 
electricity,  runs  of  errands  miles  down  under  his  ship; 
and  as  light,  gives  him  promise  of  fair  weather  in  the 
bow  that  is  set  in  the  sky.  This  may,  or  may  not  be. 
For  our  purpose  it  matters  not,  so  long  as  they  come 
within  that  unconscious  necessitated  sphere  which  we 
call  nature. 

It  is  among  these  forces,  possibly  correlated  with  them, 
that  I  have  long  ranked  that  of  life.  Thirty  years  ago  I 
said  in  a  public  discourse  that  "  the  principle  of  life  is  one 
of  the  great  principles  of  nature,"  and  "when  we  see  it 
acting  with  the  same  uniformity  and  at  times  with  the 
same  apparent  blindness  as  the  other  powers  of  nature, 
we  can  neither  doubt  that  it  is  to  be  ranked  as  one  of 
those  powers,  nor  that  is  among  the  greatest  and  most 
striking  of  them."  It  is  the  highest  of  those  powers,  and 
subordinates  all  others  to  itself.  It  breaks  up  strong 
cohesions  ;  it  picks  the  lock  of  chemical  affinity  ;  it  mocks 
at  gravitation  as  it  lifts  the  top  of  its  pine  three  hundred 
feet  into  the  air.  It  is  an  artist,  a  Prae-Raphaelite.  It 
gives  the  shell  in  the  deep  sea  its  voluted  form,  and  its 
polish.  It  snatches  colors  from  the  faint  light  and  ingrains 
them  in  lines  and  patterns  of  beauty.  It  scallops  the 
edge  of  the  leaf  and  paints  the  corol  of  the  tulip  ;  it  brings 
from  the  shapeless  mass  of  the  egg  the  bird  that  is  perfect 
in  beauty  ;  it  builds  up  the  huge  form  of  the  elephant,  and 
chisels  the  lineaments  of  him  who  is  made  in  the  image 
of  God.  Still  it  has  all  the  characteristics  of  a  purely 
natural  force.  If  not  as  wholly  blind  as  the  lower  forms 
of  force,  it  is  never  more  than  instinctive,  or  somnambulic 
in  its  ways,  and  will  work  at  a  wen  as  readily  as  at  an  eye. 
Except  as  we  supply  it  with  material  it  is  wholly  independ- 


LIFE. 


327 


ent  of  our  will,  and  builds  up  and  takes  down  its  structurcb 
in  its  own  way. 

like  other  natural  forces,  this  of  life  is  manifested 
only  in  connection  with  a  particular  kind  of  matter.  This 
has  always  been  known,  but  a  sensation  has  been  created 
of  late,  by  discovering  what  kind  of  matter  this  is,  and 
calling  it  protoplasm.  This  amounts  to  just  as  much  as  it 
does  to  analyze  the  matter  of  a  crystal  and  call  it  carbo- 
nate of  lime,  and  no  more.  Here,  as  in  the  crystal,  analy- 
sis gives  us  only  the  corpse.  Of  the  formative  force  we 
know  nothing  in  either  case ;  but  that  it  must  be  different 
here  is  clear  from  the  difference  of  the  result.  Before  we 
had  a  crystal ;  now  we  have  organization.  This  is  a  new 
thing,  embodying  the  new  idea  of  a  whole  made  up  of  parts 
that  are  mutually  means  and  ends  ;  and  also  of  the  per- 
petuation of  the  species  while  the  individual  perishes. 
Here  is  a  radical  difference,  and  the  attempt  to  slur  it  is 
vain.  So,  also,  is  there  a  radical  difference  between  the 
two  divisions  of  that  force  which  we  call  life.  Under  one, 
nutriment  is  taken  directly  from  inorganic  matter,  and  we 
have  the  vegetable ;  under  the  other,  it  is  taken  from  food 
prepared  by  vegetables,  and  we  have  the  animal.  In  each 
of  these  cases  we  have  not  only  a  new  mode  of  working, 
but  a  new  idea  and  product,  and  these  must  be  from  some- 
thing new  in  the  cause.  In  that  cause,  whatever  it  is,  is 
our  life.  Working  in  the  blind  way  of  a  natural  force,  it 
builds  up  and  takes  down  our  bodies.  In  connection  with 
it  we  come  to  the  knowledge  of  ourselves.  In  connection 
with  it  we  live  this  earthly  life.  It  thus  becomes  our  life 
— the  life  of  our  bodies — and  this  is  the  life  that  we  are  to 
lose,  if  need  be,  for  Christ's  sake. 

What,  then,  we  inquire  secondly,  is  that  better  life  for 
the  sake  of  which  we  are  to  lose  the  life  of  the  body .? 

We  here  reach  the  phenomena  to  which  the  scalpel,  the 


328  LIFE. 

microscope,  and  the  chemical  test  have  no  relation.  We 
reach  the  life  of  self-consciousness,  of  the  personality,  of 
that  in  every  man  which  he  calls  I^  and  which  is,  in  truth, 
the  man  himself.  Of  this  life  the  phenomena  are  known 
immediately,  as  they  are  in  themselves,  and  with  a  certainty 
greater  than  facts  of  observation.  Here  we  find  a  unit. 
There  is  no  unit  in  matter.  It  divides  itself  endlessly 
into  molecules  and  atoms.  But  we  are  one.  We  know 
ourselves  to  be  one  being.  Here,  too,  we  find  ^Dcrmar 
nence.  This  we  do  not  find  in  the  matter  of  the  body— 
we  call  it  the  same,  as  we  do  a  river,  but  its  particles  flow 
like  those  of  a  river.  I  hold  myself  to  be  the  same  being 
I  was  thirty-four  years  ago,  when  I  became  president  of 
this  College.  If  I  know  anything,  I  know  this.  But  the 
protoplasm  is  not  the  same.  That  has  changed  many 
times.  How,  then,  can  the  protoplasm  of  to-day  remem- 
ber what  happened  to  that  of  thirty-four  years  ago?  It 
would  almost  seem  as  if  God  had  anchored  this  conscious- 
ness of  permanence  in  a  flowing  stream  of  matter,  to  show 
that  it  could  not  be  the  product  of  that  matter. 

In  connection  with  this  one,  permanent,  self-conscious 
being,  we  find  thought,  feeling,  love,  hate,  will.  We  find 
the  idea  of  God,  of  eternity,  of  moral  law,  of  retribution. 
We  find  a  power  of  comprehending  ends,  of  freedom 
in  choosing  between  them,  and  of  acting,  not  blindly, 
or  instinctively,  but  with  a  wisdom  and  adaptation  in 
emergencies  of  which  no  natural  power  knows  anything. 
In  connection  with  this  prerogative  of  freedom,  we  know 
ourselves  as  having  the  power  of  originating  motion,  of  a 
true  causation,  of  which  we  not  only  see  no  trace  in 
nature,  but  the  very  conception  of  which  is  opposed  to  the 
definition  of  nature.  We  are,  moreover,  able  to  overlook 
and  comprehend,  as  they  are  related  to  ourselves,  all  natu- 
ral forces,  and  to  make  them  our  servants. 


LIFE. 


329 


Through  these  powers  it  is,  and  their  corresponding 
objects,  that  we  find  ourselves  capable  of  living  a  perma- 
nent life  of  thought  and  of  increasing  knowledge  ;  a  life 
of  emotion,  as  of  admiration,  wonder,  joy  ;  a  life  of  the 
social  affections,  and  of  rational  love  in  the  appreciation 
of  all  that  has  value  or  worthiness,  and  a  life  of  voluntary 
activity  in  the  pursuit  of  chosen  ends.  This  life,  endowed 
by  the  beneficence,  and  irradiated  by  the  smile  of  God, 
we  feel  that  we  are  capable  of  living  forever ;  and  this  is 
the  life  for  the  sake  of  which  we  are  to  lose  the  life  of  the 
body. 

But  is  not  this  life  the  same  as  that  of  the  body  ? 
This  is  held.  "  The  difference,"  says  Mr.  Huxley,  "  be- 
tween the  powers  of  the  lowest  plant  or  animal  and 
those  of  the  highest,  is  one  of  degree,  not  of  kind."  Ex- 
cept that  plants  take  their  nutriment  from  inorganic,  and 
animals  from  organic  matter,  he  says,  "  it  may  be  truly 
said  that  the  acts  of  all  living  things  are  fundamentally 
one."  Indeed  !  The  act  of  a  tree  is  to  grow,  of  a  worm 
to  crawl,  of  a  man  to  reason,  to  love  and  hate,  and  sin  and 
repent ;  and  so  growing,  and  crawling,  and  reasoning,  and 
loving,  and  hating,  and  sinning,  and  repenting,  are  all  fun- 
damentally one  !  The  doctrine  is  that  thought  results 
from  certain  combinations  of  matter  as  hardness  does, 
and  is  its  property  in  those  combinations  in  the  same 
way.  As  well  might  we  say  that  thought  is  the  property 
of  a  telegraphic  machine  when  in  motion.  Such  a  ma- 
chine, not  in  motion,  is  as  dead  protoplasm.  Here  is  a 
dead  body.  It  is  protoplasm  ;  it  is  organized.  As  mere 
matter,  its  combinations  are  the  same  as  in  life.  But  it  is 
dead.  It  is  a  telegraphic  machine  before  the  electricity 
comes.  That  is  the  life  of  the  machine.  Let  that  come — 
not  a  property  of  the  machine,  remember — and  it  will  go. 
Ah,  you  say,  but  is  not  electricity  matter   too  ?     Yes,  but 


330 


LIFE. 


to  say  nothing  of  the  origination  of  the  machinery,  you 
have  no  thought  yet.  It  only  clicks.  At  best  it  is  but  a 
vegetable.  To  have  thought,  you  as  much  need  an  agent 
other  than  electricity,  higher  and  totally  different,  as  you 
needed  electricity  to  start  the  dead  machine.  If  the 
clicking  were  to  go  on  a  hundred  thousand  years  it  would 
not  develop  itself  into  thought.  The  machine  would  not 
come  to  self-consciousness  and  stand  above  itself,  and 
interpret  the  product  of  its  own  working.  No.  What  we 
say  is  that  the  moment  you  have  a  formative  force  that 
works  under  the  idea  of  order,  you  have  what  mere  mat- 
ter cannot  account  for. 

We  say  there  is  a  difference  in  kind  between  a  crystal 
and  a  vegetable,  a  vegetable  and  an  animal,  an  animal  and 
a  man.  A  vegetable  has  life,  a  crystal  has  not,  an  animal 
has  sensation,  a  vegetable  has  not,  a  man  has  a  conscience, 
an  animal  has  not.  We  say  that  there  is  a  difference  in 
kind  between  motion  and  thought,  and  that  it  is  not  "  fun- 
damentally one  "  to  demolish  the  argument  of  an  opponent, 
and  to  knock  him  down  with  your  fist.  We  say,  not  only 
that  there  is  a  difference  in  kind  between  the  mineral 
and  the  vegetable,  the  vegetable  and  the  animal,  the 
animal  and  man,  but  that  the  mineral,  the  vegetable,  the 
animal,  and  the  rational  kingdoms  are  so  ordered  rela- 
tively to  each  other  as  to  show  unity  of  purpose,  super- 
intending wisdom,  and  an  origin  from  an  intelligent  will. 
Admit  this,  and  everything  is.  accounted  for.  Deny  it,  and 
nothing  is  accounted  for.  You  may  observe,  and  record, 
and  classify,  but  you  account  for  nothing.  And  not  only 
so,  but  you  have  the  higher  from  the  lower,  unity  from 
multiplicity,  life  from  death,  thought  from  motion,  some- 
thing from  nothing;  and  you  make  God  impossible. 
Whoever  says,  "no  phosphorus,  no  thought,"  says  there 
is  no  God.     God  cannot  be  matter  or  force  and  be  God 


LIFE.  331 

He  must  be  a  person,  rational,  free,  moral,  causative,  and 
so  "the  living  God,  and  an  everlasting  King" — living  in 
that  life  of  which  I  have  just  spoken,  and  by  partaking  of 
which  we  are  in  his  image. 

Unless  then  we  say  that  the  higher  in  kind  is  from  the 
lower,  that  is,  something  from  nothing,  that  thought  is 
motion,  and  that  matter  is  God,  we  must  allow  that  the  self- 
conscious  life  is  different  in  kind  from  that  of  the  body. 

But  allowing  that  the  self-conscious  life  is  different  in 
kind  from  that  of  the  body,  we  have  not  yet  reached  the 
full  meaning  of  the  word  life^  as  used  by  our  Saviour,  for 
this  self-conscious  life  may  itself  differ  in  quality.  It  may 
be  a  curse.  It  may  be  death  in  its  highest  meaning,  for 
death  is  not  merely  a  cessation  of  existence,  but  moral 
putrefaction  and  misery.  This  is  the  second  death,  as  the 
life  spoken  of  by  our  Saviour  is  truly  life — the  life  ever- 
lasting. That  is  not  merely  self-consciousness  continued, 
but  continued  in  holiness,  in  happiness  from  holiness,  that 
is,  in  blessedness.  It  is  a  life  of  love,  of  fulness  of  joy  in 
the  presence  of  God,  and  of  participation  in  those  plea- 
sures which  are  at  his  right  hand  forevermore. 

Having  thus  seen  what  life  is,  we  turn  to  that  princi- 
ple of  self-renunciation  by  which  we  are  to  lose  the  earth- 
ly life,  if  need  be,  for  Christ's  sake,  and  gain  one  that  is 
better.  Whatever  this  principle  may  be,  the  text  makes  it 
certain  that  it  is  not  one  which  requires  the  renunciation 
by  us  of  our  highest  good.  The  self  we  are  to  renounce  is 
the  lower  self,  as  the  life  we  are  to  lose  is  the  lower  life. 
It  is  the  selfish  self.  The  self  we  are  to  deny  is  the  self 
that  is  opposed  to  God.  Our  highest  good,  Christ  every- 
where calls  upon  us  to  labor  for,  and  to  secure  at  all  haz- 
ards, even  of  the  loss  of  life  itself.  We  are  to  "  lay  up 
treasure  in  heaven,"  and  Christ  requires  no  renunciation 
of  anything  except  in  relation  to  that.     This  is  universal 


332  LIFE. 

with  him,  and  peculiar  to  him.  Does  he  forewarn  his 
disciples  of  persecution  for  his  sake,  he  tells  them  their 
reward  shall  be  great  in  heaven.  Does  he  call  upon 
them  to  forsake  all  and  follow  Him  ?  He  promises  mani- 
fold more  in  this  Hfe,  and  in  the  world  to  come  life  ever- 
lasting. Are  they  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  ? 
Other  things  shall  be  added.  Does  he  command  them  to 
love  their  enemies,  and  do  good,  and  lend  hoping  for 
nothing  again  ?  He  immediately  adds,  '•  and  your  reward 
shall  be  great,  and  ye  shall  be  the  children  of  the  High- 
est." Even  the  giving  of  a  cup  of  cold  water  for  his  sake 
is  not  to  be  without  its  reward.  Everywhere  a  recogni- 
tion of  enjoyment  and  of  suffering  as  depending  on  con- 
duct, is  involved  in  his  teaching  and  gives  it  weight.  The 
first  verse  of  his  first  discourse  as  recorded  by  Matthew  is 
the  promise  of  a  reward,  even  the  first  word  implies  it  ; 
and  in  the  last  verse  of  his  last  discourse  as  given  by 
the  same  Evangelist,  he  speaks  of  everlasting  punishment 
and  of  life  eternal. 

But  is  this  prominence  of  reward  thus  held  forth  as  a 
motive,  compatible  with  an  appeal  to  that  which  is  no- 
blest in  man  ?     Does  it  not  make  goodness  mercenary  ? 

This  might  be  if  the  condition  of  the  reward  were  other 
than  it  is.  The  essential  good  is  holy  happiness,  or  hap- 
piness from  holiness.  This  can  be  increased  only  as  the 
holiness  is  increased,  and  external  rewards  will  be  added 
in  proportion.  Christ  had  no  fear  of  lowering  the  dignity 
of  man,  or  the  tone  of  morals,  by  a  regard  to  that  good 
the  conception  of  which  so  underlies  morals  that  without  it 
no  moral  idea  can  be  formed.  If  there  be  no  sensibility, 
no  possible  enjoyment  or  suffering,  there  can  be  nothing 
light  or  wrong,  nothing  that  ought,  or  ought  not  to  be  done. 

It  maybe  asked  again,  how  this  prominence  of  reward 
is  compatible  with  the  requirement  to  do  what  we   do  for 


LIFE.  333 

Christ's  sake.     If  we  are  to  do  it  for  the  reward,  then  not 
for  Christ's  sake;  if  for  Christ's  sake,  then  not  for  the 
reward.     Is  there  not  contradiction  here  ?     No,  not  con- 
tradiction, but  one  of  those   Christian  paradoxes  which 
abound  in  the  New  Testament,  by  which  the  many-sided 
wisdom  of  Christ  brings  our  whole  complex  nature  into 
harmony  ;  and  by  which  his  teachings  are  so  distinguished 
from   those  of  abstractionists  and  logical  system  makers. 
Two  things  the  Saviour  does.     He  requires  disinterested 
service,  and  he  promises  reward.     But  if  happiness  in  any 
form  was  to  be  the  reward,  it  was  necessary  that  we  should 
be  required  to  seek  it  disinterestedly,  that  is,  to  seek,  not 
that,  but  something  else.     This  is   a  law   of  our  being. 
Happiness  is  the    spontaneous  product  of  every  faculty 
acting  directly  upon  its  appropriate  object  for  the  sake  of 
that  object.     If  we  are  to  have  happiness  from  knowledge, 
we  must  seek  knowledge  and  not  happiness.     This  would 
be  seeking  it,  not  uninterestedly,  but  disinterestedly,  un- 
selfishly.    So  of  love,  only  that  love  is  disinterested  in  its 
own    nature.     Knowledge   may  be   sought    selfishly,  but 
love,  to  be  love,  must  be  disinterested.     It  must  therefore 
produce  happiness  to  ourselves  as  well  as  to  others.     It 
will  always  do  this,  and  is  the  only  thing  we  can  always 
do  that  will.     We  can  always  love  God  and  our  neighbor. 
We  can  always  work,  or  suffer  for  Christ's  sake.    If  there- 
fore we  were  to  be  happy  at  all  through  our  own  activity, 
or  rewarded  for  it,  the  requisition  of  our  Saviour  could 
not   have   been   otherwise.     It  is  based  on   the  deepest 
knowledge  of  our  frame  ;  and  when  we  know  the  two  facts, 
that  happiness  cannot  be  had  by  seeking  it  directly,  and 
that  love  must  be  disinterested,  the  paradox  is  solved. 

What  has  now  been  said  is  true  of  all  moral  love— of 
the  love  of  enemies.  But  in  loving  Christ,  and  so  suffer- 
ing for  his  sake,  there  is  something  more.     In  him  we 


334  LIFE. 

find  every  ground  of  love,  whether  from  complacency  or 
personal  relalionship.  In  him  all  moral  excellence  is 
marvellously  combined,  and  marvellously  expressed — all 
the  more  so  from  that  lowliness  of  form  which  has  dimmed 
its  radiance  in  the  eyes  of  men.  In  loving  him,  too,  we 
love  a  friend  who  has  loved  us,  a  benefactor  through  suf- 
fering unto  death — a  redeemer,  a  leader  and  captain  of 
our  salvation,  who  is  identified  with  a  great  cause  ;  and  in 
loving  him  we  identify  ourselves  with  that  cause,  as  a 
patriot  soldier  identifies  himself  with  the  cause  of  his 
leader.  Casting  in  our  lot  with  him,  choosing  him,  loving 
him,  we  seek  the  promotion  of  that  blessedness  which  is 
the  object  of  his  kingdom.  In  the  prosperity  of  that 
kingdom  is  the  hope  of  the  world.  Whatever  we  do  for 
that  we  do  for  Christ's  sake,  and  the  principle  of  self-re- 
nunciation is  that  we  are  to  renounce  and  suffer  whatever 
the  prosperity  of  that  kingdom  may  require  us  to  renounce 
and  suffer,  and  nothing  else.  Here  are  no  negations,  or 
abstractions,  or  mere  intellections  ;  no  self-sacrifice  as 
meritorious,  or  for  its  own  sake,  but  a  universe  of  living 
beings,  personal  beings,  with  glorious  capacities  and  un- 
speakable interests,  and  Christ  taught  no  self-renunciation 
which  should  not  find  its  inspiration  in  the  well-being  of 
such  a  universe. 

But  what !  I  think  I  hear  you  say  to  me,  What !  seek 
a  higher  end  by  renouncing  the  lower!  Have  you  not 
taught  us  that  the  lower  is  the  condition  of  the  higher, 
and  is  best  secured  through  that  ?  Have  you  not  taught 
us  that  this  is  the  law  which  gives  unity  both  to  nature 
and  to  life  ?  Yes.  But  while  I  have  taught  you  that 
there  is  a  natural  law  of  self-denial  based  on  condition, 
ing  and  conditioned  forces  and  faculties,  and  on  the  law 
of  limitation  from  that,  I  have  also  taught  you  that  there 


LIFE.  335 

is  a  Christian  law  of  self-denial  that  may  become  para- 
mount to  this.  Christianity  is  a  remedy.  It  deals  with 
sin,  and  it  is  the  exceptional  and  atrocious  nature  of  that 
that  brings  in  an  exception  to  the  great  natural  law  of  har- 
mony. If  there  were  no  sin  there  would  be  no  call  for  the 
cutting  off  of  a  right  hand,  and  the  plucking  out  of  a  right 
eye  ;  there  could  be  no  persecution  for  righteousness' 
sake,  no  losing  of  life  for  Christ's  sake.  Sin  is  the  primal 
disorder.  But  for  this,  reflecting  itself  in  the  misadjust- 
ment  of  nature  to  our  physical  being,  this  earthly  life, 
instead  of  being  maintained  by  struggle  and  going  down 
at  length  into  the  darkness  of  death,  would  have  passed 
into  the  life  of  heaven  as  the  morning  twilight  brightens 
into  day.  What  may  be  before  you  in  this  life  I  know 
not,  but  I  do  know  that  if  you  are  to  gain  that  better  life, 
you  must,  in  spirit,  renounce  this.  You  may  not  be  per- 
secuted for  Christ's  sake.  You  may  be.  In  either  case, 
since  the  spirit  of  this  world  is  opposed  to  that  of  Christ, 
you  must,  in  your  inmost  souls,  renounce  this  world  as  a 
portion,  and  not  count  your  life  dear  if  Christ  calls  for  it. 
This  martyr  spirit,  ready  to  reveal  itself  in  little  things 
as  well  as  in  great,  as  occasion  may  call  for  it,  up  to  the 
great  height  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  earthly  life,  is  what  the 
world  needs  in  you ;  is  what  you  need  for  your  own  high- 
est good.  This  spirit  is  itself  that  life  eternal  which  all 
external  splendor  waits  to  crown. 

It  is  because  this  spirit,  so  the  inspiration  of  all  that 
is  noble  in  this  life,  and  of  all  good  hope  for  the  future, 
cannot  co-exist,  logically  at  least,  with  materialistic  ten- 
dencies, that  I  have  desired  to  draw  your  attention  to 
those  tendencies  as  they  now  exist.  In  themselves  they 
are  nothing  new.  More  than  two  thousand  years  ago 
they  and  their  results  were  as  well  stated,  by  a  writer  of 
that  day,  as  they  can  be  now.     "  For  we  are  born,"  says 


336  LIFE. 

he,  "  at  all  adventure  :  and  we  shall  be  hereafter  as  though 
we  had  never  beeit:  for  the  breath  in  our  nostrils  is  as 
smoke,  and  a  little  spark  in  the  moving  of  our  heart ; 
which,  being  extinguished,  our  body  shall  be  turned  into 
ashes,  and  our  spirit  shall  vanish  as  the  soft  air ;  and  our 
life  shall  pass  away  as  the  trace  of  a  cloud,  and  shall  be 
dispersed  as  a  mist  that  is  driven  away  with  the  beams 
of  the  sun,  and  overcome  with  the  heat  thereof.'*  Now 
the  results  :  "  Come  on,  therefore,  let  us  enjoy  the  good 
things  that  are  present ;  let  us  fill  ourselves  with  costly 
wine  and  ointment ;  let  us  crown  ourselves  with  rose-buds 
before  they  be  withered ;  let  none  of  us  go  without  his 
part  of  our  voluptuousness."  This,  that  is  sensuality,  is 
the  first  result.  The  second  is  malignity  and  abuse  of 
power.  *'  Let  us  oppress  the  poor  righteous  man,  let 
us  not  spare  the  widow,  nor  reverence  " — why  should 
they  reverence  anything  ?  How  can  they  reverence  a 
mere  piece  of  dissolving  protoplasm  ? — "  nor  reverence 
the  ancient  gray  hairs  of  the  aged.  Zef  our  strength  be  the 
law  of  justice^  for  that  which  is  feeble  is  found  to  be 
nothing  worth."  This  is  the  inevitable  logic  and  result 
of  materialism  in  whatever  form.  Let  the  spirit  of  this 
people  but  become  materialistic,  and  you  insure,  on  a 
scale  proportioned  to  the  bounties  of  God,  if  not  a  gross, 
yet  an  utter  sensuality,  and  either  anarchy  or  despotism. 

In  itself,  as  I  have  said,  this  spirit  is  the  same  now  as 
in  ancient  times.  It  only  differs  in  using  the  vocabulary, 
and  wearing  the  livery,  and  claiming  the  authority  of 
physical  science.  It  claims,  indeed,  to  be  physical  science, 
but  it  is  not.  Force  and  life,  and  thought  and  feeling, 
are  not  matter,  and  any  assertion  that  they  can  be  the 
product  or  result  of  mere  matter,  must  be  hypothesis,  and 
not  science. 

Very  different  from  this  philosophy  of  dust  and  of  death 


LIFE.  337 

is  that  which  teaches  that  the  beginning  was  from  above,  not 
from  beneath ;  that  if  there  be  everywhere  the  reign  of  law, 
there  is,  also,  everywhere  the  reign  of  One  who  has  origi- 
nated, and  who  sustains  all  law,  and  who  reigns  by  no  law 
of  necessity,  but  by  that  moral  law  which  presupposes  free- 
dom. I  trust  you  are  convinced  that  there  is  a  region  of  life 
and  of  knowledge  above  the  uniformities  of  natural  science, 
a  region  of  self-consciousness,  of  personality,  of  freedom, 
of  holiness,  of  perfect  love,  and  of  the  fulness  of  joy  in  a 
social  state  unmarred  by  sin.  In  such  a  state  the  conscious 
life  may  be  connected — it  will  be  in  the  future — not  as  now 
with  a  body  that  lives  only  by  dying,  but  with  one  that  is 
unwasting,  so  as  that  it  can  "hunger  no  more,  neither 
thirst  any  more."  Such  a  body  may  have  senses  respond- 
ing as  ours  do  now,  to  the  more  glorious  objects  around 
it,  it  may  be  flexible  to  every  touch  of  the  spirit,  and  may 
be  endowed  with  the  untiring  energy  that  we  see  in  the 
great  forces  of  nature. 

It  is,  my  friends,  to  a  life  in  this  region,  and  thus 
endowed,  that  the  Saviour  calls  you  from  above  ;  and  that 
call  finds  an  echo  and  enforcement  in  every  work  of  God 
beneath  you.  I  have  said  to  you  that  the  carbon  of  the 
diamond,  and  the  quartz  of  the  rock-crystal,  and  the  lime 
of  the  calc-spar  are  seeking  their  ideal.  After  this  too  it 
is  that  the  oak  and  the  elm  are  struggling  and  battling 
with  the  elements.  It  is  the  tendency  to  this  in  the  move- 
ments of  all  things  in  nature  that  gives  them  their  beauty, 
and  they  all  call  to  you  to  come  into  harmony  with  them, 
and  to  struggle  toward  that  higher  ideal  of  your  higher 
nature,  which  is  the  glory  and  crown  of  these  lower  works 
of  God.  It  is  to  a  life  of  struggle  toward  this  ideal  that 
the  Saviour  calls  you,  and  he  calls  you  to  suffering  only 
as  it  may  be  incidental  to  that.     That  ideal  he  himself 


33S  LIFE. 

was,  and  is.  You  are  to  "grow  up  into  him  in  all  things." 
Will  you  do  this  ?  Will  you  love  him,  and  be  like  him  ? 
Will  you  love  his  cause,  and  have  his  spirit,  and  devote 
your  lives,  cheerfully,  joyfully,  to  the  good  of  men,  and  to 
the  glory  of  God  ? 


XIX. 

THE  BODY   THE   TEMPLE  OF   GOD. 

What !  know  ye  not  that  your  body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  in 
you,  which  ye  have  of  God,  and  ye  are  not  your  own  ?— i  Corinthians,  vi.  19. 

THERE  are  three  great  ideas,  each  resting  back  on 
the  fact  of  sin,  that  have  controlled  the  religious 
history  of  the  world.  As  revealed  in  the  Scriptures  each 
of  these  has  assumed  three  forms.  It  has  first  been  pre- 
sented as  a  type,  then  in  its  antitype,  and  then,  in  a  modi- 
fied form,  in  its  consummation  and  results  in  Christian  life. 
These  ideas  we  need  to  see  in  their  relation  to  each  other, 
if  we  would  apprehend  fully  the  place  and  use  which 
Christianity  assigns  to  the  body. 

Of  these  the  first  and  central  idea  is  that  of  sacrifice. 
An  innocent  being  comes  directly  to  God,  and  needs  no 
sacrifice.  But  a  guilty  being,  not  yet  given  over  to  de- 
spair, naturally  asks,  ''Wherewith  shall  I  come  before 
the  Lord  ?  "  The  practical  answer  to  this  question  given 
by  those  unenlightened  by  revelation,  is  the  saddest  and 
most  awful  chapter  in  the  history  of  man.  It  reveals  to 
us  not  only  the  sacrifice  of  animals  with  no  conception  of 
its  true  relation  to  the  divine  government,  but  also  the 
sacrifice  of  human  victims  in  vast  numbers,  and  often  the 
association  of  cannibalism  with  religious  rites.  It  shows 
us  a  ferocious  superstition  combining  itself  with  sensuality 
and  a  lust  for  power,  with  an  utter  disregard  of  human 
rights,  and  an  utter  subjection  to  it  of  every  natural  affec- 
tion. It  shows  us  how  great  the  darkness  in  man  may  be 
when  "  the  light  that  is  in  him  has  become  darkness." 


340  THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE   OF  GOD. 

But  to  the  question,  "Wherewith  shall  I  come  before 
the  Lord  ?  "  God  himself  gave  an  answer  under  the  old 
dispensation  by  appointing  a  system  of  bloody  sacrifices. 
These,  it  would  seem,  must  have  originated  with  God,  for 
the  thought  of  pleasing  him  by  taking  the  life  of  an  inno- 
cent being,  which  life  God  himself  gave,  and  by  destroying 
with  fire  everything  left  of  that  being  that  could  be  useful 
to  man,  is  too  alien  from  reason  to  have  been  suggested  by 
it.  As  typical  and  inculcatory,  nothing  could  have  been 
more  admirable  than  these  sacrifices.  Nothing  could  have 
so  pointed  forward  to  the  Antitype. 

The  Antitype!  The  Lamb  of  God!  Jesus  Christ! 
In  him  we  have  the  idea  in  its  true  form,  the  consumma- 
tion and  fulfilment  of  all  that  was  signified  by  the  sacri- 
fices of  the  Old  Testament.  Whatever  significance  or  effi- 
cacy there  may  have  been  in  the  idea  of  sacrifice,  as 
expressed  in  preceding  ages,  it  all  centred  in  the  one 
"offering  of  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ  once  for  all."  In 
him,  and  him  alone,  all  sacrifices  of  the  old  dispensation 
find  their  Antitype. 

But  while  the  idea  of  sacrifice  in  its  high  sense,  as 
making  atonement,  must  be  confined  to  the  work  of 
Christ,  yet  that  work  was  not  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  the 
sake  of  its  spiritual  results,  carried  over  into  Christian  life. 
And  those  results  are  substantially  the  same  to  us  as  they 
were  to  those  under  the  old  dispensation.  Did  they, 
under  the  form  of  their  sacrifices,  recognize  the  holiness 
of  God,  and  his  perfect  requirements,  and  their  own  sin- 
fulness, and  a  forfeited  life,  and  the  idea  of  substitution, 
and  of  a  perfect  consecration  ?  So  do  we.  Did  they,  in 
the  recognition  of  these  ideas,  bring  to  God  sacrifices  and 
offerings  which  were  acceptable  to  him  ?  So  do  we,  even 
"spiritual  sacrifices,"  the  very  things  which  are  "accept- 
able  to   God,"  for  their  own  sake.     In   these   sacrifices 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.     341 

there  is  nothing  outward,  material,  visible,  but  there  is 
that  v/hich  has  value  in  itself,  and  without  which  no- 
thing that  is  outward,  or  material,  or  visible,  has  any  value. 
The  dispensations  of  God  do  not  go  backwards.  To  the 
rjye  of  sense  they  may  seem  to,  as  outward  forms  disap- 
pear, but  to  the  eye  of  reason  and  of  faith,  it  is  the  real, 
the  permanent,  the  eternal  taking  the  place  of  the  sha- 
dowy and  the  transient. 

Thus  have  we  the  idea  of  sacrifice  in  its  three  forms — 
as  typical ;  as  seen  in  its  antitype  ;  and  as  expressed  in 
spiritual  worship  and  full  consecration. 

The  second  great  idea  which  has  controlled  the  history 
of  the  world,  is  that  of  2, priesthood. 

This  removes  man  still  further  from  God.  At  first 
men  brought  their  own  sacrifices  and  offerings,  as  Cain 
and  Abel,  but  when  a  priesthood  was  established,  not 
only  could  they  not  come  directly  to  God  without  an 
offering,  but  another,  and  one  specially  consecrated,  was  '-* 
required  to  bring  the  offering.  And  so  consonant  was 
this  idea,  also,  with  the  wants  of  man  as  conscious  of  guilt, 
that  a  priesthood,  however  originated,  became  permanent 
and  universal.  Everywhere  there  was  a  class  of  men 
who  intervened  between  the  people  and  God,  and  the 
exactions  and  oppressions  from  them,  to  which  the  people 
have  submitted,  are  an  indirect  testimony  to  their  con- 
sciousness of  alienation  from  God,  to  their  felt  need  of 
access  to  him,  and  to  their  sense  of  unfitness  to  approach 
him  directly. 

This  want  God  met  under  the  old  dispensation  by 
establishing  the  Levitical  priesthood  with  its  magnifi- 
cent vestments  and  imposing  ceremonial.  That  this  was 
wholly  typical  was  obvious,  because  the  priests  were 
obliged   "  to  offer  up   sacrifices  first  for  their  own  sins," 


342      THE  EODV  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

whereas  a  real  priest  must  be  one  who  can  stand  before 
God  in  his  own  name,  and  that  can  offer  a  sacrifice  that 
shall  avail  on  the  ground  of  its  own  merits.  Therefore, 
magnificent  though  it  was,  and  appointed  of  God,  and 
national,  and  long  continued,  it  yet  availed  nothing  except 
as  pointing  to  an  antitype. 

And  here  again  this  antitype  is  Jesus  Christ.  He  was 
both  the  sacrifice  and  the  priest.  '-'He  offered  up  himself" 
He  was  the  priest,  he  offered  the  sacrifice.  Whatever 
difficulty  we  may  have  in  comprehending  the  mode  of  it, 
if  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  did  not  avail  as  between  God  and 
us  for  our  salvation,  the  Old  Testament  is  an  absurdity, 
and  salvation  by  faith  is  impossible.  Christ  was  the  only 
real  priest  that  ever  stood  on  this  earth,  and  without  him  no 
other  sacrifices  or  ministrations  could  avail  anything.  "  By 
one  offering  he  perfected  forever  them  that  are  sanctified." 

But  here,  again,  as  in  the  case  of  sacrifice,  the  office  of 
priest  passes  over  to  the  people  of  God  in  a  modified  form. 
Every  Christian  is  a  priest  as  he  is  permitted  to  approach 
directly  to  God  with  no  earthly  mediator  ;  as  he  is  per- 
mitted to  offer  up  spiritual  sacrifices,  even  himself,  and  as 
he  stands  between  God  and  nature,  the  only  intelligent 
being  on  the  earth  capable  of  gathering  into  articulate 
utterance  the  praises  that  go  up  to  him  from  his  works, 
and  of  offering  them  as  incense  to  Him.  In  this  high  sense 
all  Christians  are  priests,  all  are  equally  so,  and  the  attempt 
to  perpetuate  a  priesthood  and  a  continued  sacrifice,  in 
distinction  from  a  ministry  for  teaching  and  for  edification, 
has  not  only  been  a  dishonor  to  the  one  priesthood  and 
sacrifice  of  Christ,  but  has  been  among  the  greatest  sources 
of  disaster  and  corruption  to  the  church. 

We  thus  have  the  idea  of  a  priesthood  in  its  three  forms. 
We  have  the  typical  priests,  the  true  Priest,  and  then 
Christ  has  made  his  followers  "priests  unto  God." 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.     343 

The  third  great  idea  which  has  controlled  the  religious 
history  of  the  world,  is  that  of  the  temple.  This  removes 
man  still  farther  from  God.  Not  only  must  there  now  be 
a  sacrifice  and  an  intervening  priest,  but  the  sacrifice  must 
be  made  in  a  consecrated  place. 

If  this  idea  has  been  less  universal  and  influential  than 
the  others,  it  has  yet  had  such  an  affinity  for  the  human 
mind,  as  to  prompt  some  of  the  most  astonishing  labors 
that  have  been  performed  by  man.  With  the  exception  of 
the  pyramids,  the  grandest,  the  costliest,  and  the  most 
permanent  structures  built  by  man,  have  been  temples. 
So  has  it  been  in  India  and  China,  so  in  Asia  Minor  and 
Egypt,  so  in  Greece  and  Italy,  so  in  Central  and  South 
America.  Nothing  that  art  or  labor  could  do  has  been 
spared  in  erecting  and  decorating  the  temples  of  the  gods. 
To  them  pilgrimages  have  been  made,  and  they  have  been 
among  the  wonders  of  the  world. 

This  idea  is  also  presented  by  God  in  the  Scriptures 
under  its  three  forms.  As  typical  he  presents  it  with  pecu- 
liar magnificence,  even  more  than  that  of  the  priesthood, 
thus  showing  not  only  his  recognition  of  the  idea,  but  the 
importance  he  attaches  to  it.  There  is  no  scene  in  history 
more  striking  than  that  in  which  God  took  possession  of 
the  temple  built  by  Solomon.  The  building  was  more 
magnificent  than  the  world  had  then  seen,  perhaps  than  it 
has  ever  seen.  The  religious  feelings  and  patriotism  of  a 
nation,  whose  work  it  was,  were  centred  in  it.  It  was  a 
marvel  of  architectural  skill,  having  been  so  planned,  and 
the  materials  so  prepared  in  the  mountains,  that  "  neither 
hammer,  nor  axe,  nor  any  tool  of  iron  was  heard  in  the 
house  while  it  was  building."  When  the  building  that 
went  up  thus  quietly  and  as  by  magic  was  completed,  the 
whole  nation  was  assembled  by  special  proclamation. 
Religious  services  were  instituted,  innumerable  sacrifices 


344  THE   BODY   THE   TEMPLE   OF  GOD. 

were  offered.  The  ark  of  the  covenant  was  brought  by 
the  priests  in  solemn  procession  and  placed  in  the  temple, 
*'  in  the  most  holy  place,  even  under  the  wings  of  the  cheru- 
bims."  Then  King  Solomon  stood  on  a  brazen  scaffold 
which  he  had  set  in  the  midst  of  the  court  of  the  temple, 
"and  kneeled  down  upon  his  knees  before  all  the  congre- 
gation of  Israel  and  spread  forth  his  hands  toward  heaven" 
and  prayed.  What  a  scene  !  A  whole  nation  assembled, 
standing  with  bowed  heads  and  in  solemn  silence  !  Its 
monarch,  surrounded  by  a  magnificence  such  as  earth  has 
not  seen,  kneeling  in  prayer  !  That  prayer  we  have.  It 
met  the  grandeur  of  the  occasion,  and  closed  by  calling 
upon  God  to  take  possession  of  his  house.  "  Now  there- 
fore, arise  O  Lord  into  thy  resting  place,  thou  and  the  ark 
of  thy  strength."  This  invocation  God  heard,  for  "when 
Solomon  had  made  an  end  of  praying,"  while  the  hush  yet 
continued  and  every  mind  was  expectant,  "the  fire  came 
down  from  heaven  and  consumed  the  burnt-offering  and 
the  sacrifices,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  filled  the  Lord's 
house." 

But  if  such  was  the  type,  what  was  the  antitype  ?  Ex- 
ternally it  was  in  wonderful  contrast.  Looking  forward  a 
thousand  years  we  see,  standing  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Jordan,  surrounded  by  a  rugged  nature,  a  human  form,  a 
man  simply  clad.  He  prays,  and  the  heavens  are  opened, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit  descends  "  in  a  bodily  shape  like 
a  dove  upon  him."  He  was  the  Antitype.  "  In  him  dwelt 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily."  In  his  body  God 
dwelt,  and  through  that  manifested  his  glory  as  in  no  other 
way.  The  glory  of  the  first  temple  was  simply  a  bright- 
ness showing  the  presence  of  God  ;  the  glory  of  the  true 
temple  was  such  a  manifestation  of  the  divine  attributes, 
especially   his  moral  attributes,  as  the  world  had  never 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.      345 

witnessed.     It  was  the  "  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." 

What  now  is  the  spiritual  idea  here  to  be  carried 
over  into  Christian  life  ?  The  Scriptures  express  it  thus  : 
"  What !  know  ye  not  that  your  body  is  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  which  is  in  you,  which  ye  have  of  God  ?  " 
There  is  now,  there  has  been  since  the  coming  of  Christ, 
no  temple  of  God  on  the  earth  except  the  body  of  man. 
Christianity  had  no  temple  nor  anything  that  resembled 
one.  Christ  stood  before  the  old  temple  and  declared 
that  not  one  stone  of  it  should  be  left  upon  another.  That 
was  fulfilled,  and  there  was  nothing  to  take  its  place.  For 
hundreds  of  years  Christians  worshipped  in  obscure  places, 
in  concealment,  in  the  catacombs,  wherever  they  could 
find  security. 

But  was  not  that  a  going  back  of  the  dispensations  ? 
So  it  would  almost  seem  when  we  look  at  the  vagueness 
of  nature,  and  at  the  difficulty  man  has  in  apprehending 
a  spiritual  and  an  infinite  God.  It  was  a  great  thing  for 
God  to  manifest  himself  visibly  and  permanently  as  he  did 
to  the  Israelites,  and  to  choose  a  place  where  he  might  be 
found  ;  and  it  is  not,  perhaps,  surprising  that  attempts 
have  been  made  since,  and  are  still  made,  to  connect  with 
Christianity  temples,  and  a  temple  worship ;  to  establish 
sacred  places,  and  to  localize  the  presence  of  God.  This 
has  been  done  on  the  ground,  or  under  the  pretence,  that 
spiritual  worship  was  cold,  and  that  something  warmer  was 
needed.  Warmer — yes,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  ancient 
idolatries  were  warmer  than  the  worship  of  a  spiritual  and 
holy  God  as  instituted  by  him. 

But  all  this  proceeded  on  a  misapprehension  of  the 
genius  of  Christianity  and  ended  in  its  perversion.  As 
the  types  centred  in  Christ  and  had  their  significance  in 
him,  so  we  are  not  to  go  back  of  him  in  finding  that  sig- 


346      THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

nificance.  In  him  the  letter  that  killeth  was  dropped,  and 
all  became  spiritual.  But  instead  of  stopping  at  the  anti- 
type and  drawing  Christianity  wholly  from  Christ,  the  pomp, 
the  show,  the  formality,  the  outwardness  of  the  type  have 
been  carried  over  into  Christian  life,  and  each  of  the  three 
great  ideas  mentioned  has  been  the  basis  of  a  preva- 
lent and  disastrous  superstition.  A  regard  for  places  and 
forms,  once  legitimate,  became,  under  Christianity,  a  super- 
stition, and  through  it  Christianity  lost  its  spiritual  power 
and  took  on  the  formality  of  Judaism  blended  with  the 
license  of  paganism.  The  new  wine  of  a  spiritual  reli- 
gion was  spoiled,  and  always  will  be,  in  the  old  bottles  of 
places  and  forms.  What  we  need,  and  all  that  we  need, 
is  the  realization  within  us,  in  its  full  import,  of  the  great, 
the  precious,  the  indispensable  doctrine  of  the  indwelling 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  with  man. 

That  this  is  a  doctrine  of  the  Bible,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  The  Apostle  Paul  is  explicit  on  this  point :  "  Know 
ye  not,"  he  says,  "  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you  ?  If  any  man  defile  the 
temple  of  God  him  shall  God  destroy,  for  the  temple  of 
God  is  holy,  which  temple  ye  are?''  This  doctrine  is  also 
directly  asserted  by  our  Saviour,  and  everywhere  implied. 
"  If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments,  and  I  will  pray 
the  Father  and  he  shall  give  you  another  Comforter,  even 
the  Spirit  of  truth  whom  the  world  cannot  receive  because 
it  seeth  him  not  neither  knoweth  him,  but  ye  know  him 
for  he  dwelleth  with  you  and  shall  be  in  you."  "If  a  man 
love  me  he  will  keep  my  words,  and  my  Father  will  love 
him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him  and  make  our  abode  with 
him." 

Thus  do  these  three  great  ideas  result  and  culminate 
in  making  the  body  of  man  the  temple  of  God.     This  is 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.      347 

the  end,  the  consummation  ;  beyond  this  nothing  can  go. 
With  t-his  the  kingdom  of  God  will  be,  as  it  must  be  if  it 
be  at  all,  within  every  man,  and  formality  and  supersti- 
tion will  be  impossible.  God  dwelling  with  man,  work- 
ing in  him  and  with  him  !  Man  yielding  himself  as  a  child 
to  God  !  For  this  were  the  sacrifices,  for  this  the  priest- 
hood. Not  by  his  own  unaided  strength,  but  through  this, 
and  this  only,  will  man  reach  whatever  of  perfection  and 
happiness  is  possible  for  him.  Christ  opened  the  way  for 
the  presence  and  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  every 
man  who  will  receive  him.  Let  him  be  received,  and  let 
the  "  fruit  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suf- 
fering, gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness,  temperance," 
be  manifested  in  their  fulnesb,  and  there  will  be  a  glory 
shining  through  this  temple  of  the  body  transcending  that 
of  the  Shekinah.  Where  these  thus  produced  are,  there 
the  temple  of  God  is,  and  where  these  are  not,  there  the 
temple  of  God  is  not. 

I  have  thus  presented  to  you,  my  friends,  the  place 
which  the  body  holds  under  the  Christian  system.  Ac- 
cording to  Christianity,  it  is  the  office  of  the  body  to 
stand  over  against  the  ancient  temple,  magnificent  as  that 
was,  and  to  be  the  dwelling  place  of  God  under  this  dis- 
pensation as  that  was  under  the  old,  the  only  temple  of 
God  now  on  earth. 

And  lightly  as  we  may  esteem  it  in  our  familiarity  and 
want  of  spiritual  insight,  this  body  is  worthy  to  stand 
there.  It  is  the  only  temple  worthy  of  God.  Be  it,  that 
it  is  that  which  is  lowest  in  man  ;  it  is  yet  highest  in  the 
handiworks  of  God.  The  heavens  do,  indeed,  "  declare 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handi- 
work." For  the  impression  they  make  upon  us  of  gran* 
deur  and  of  a  broad  order,  there  is  noihing  that  can  be 
compared  with  them.     But  these  heavens  are    made    up 


348     THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

of  unorganized  bodies  floating  in  space  with  adjustments 
relatively  simple.  They  can  never  manifest  the  skill  re- 
quired for  the  construction  of  the  eye  which  beholds  them, 
and  which,  in  beholding  them,  epitomizes  infinity  within  a 
space  less  than  the  half  of  a  square  inch.  But  the  eye  is 
only  a  single  organ  of  that  body,  so  complex  in  its  unity, 
which  is  set  over  against  the  universe  to  be  acted  upon 
by  it,  and  to  react  upon  it.  Moreover,  the  parts  of  the 
universe,  so  far  as  they  are  related  to  the  body,  are  for  it, 
it  is  not  for  them  ;  and  we  might  expect  that  greater  skill 
and  wisdom  would  be  found  in  that  for  which  the  things 
are  made  than  in  the  things  themselves. 

And  as  the  body  of  man  thus  transcends  all  arrange- 
ments of  inorganic  matter,  so  does  it  all  other  forms  of 
organization.  Naturalists  are  agreed  that  from  the  first 
appearance  of  organization  on  this  planet  there  was  a 
movement  onward  and  upward  till  man  was  reached. 
They  are  agreed  that  of  the  four  great  classes  in  Zoology, 
that  to  which  man  belongs  is  the  highest,  and  that  man 
stands  at  theJhead  of  that  class.  In  the  first  fin  of  the  first 
fish  they  find  a  foreshadowing  of  the  hand  of  man  ;  but 
while  that  fin  was  perfectly  adapted  to  its  use,  they  find  in 
the  hand,  as  more  complicated  and  capable  of  wider  uses, 
an  instrument  vastly  more  perfect.  And  so  of  the  body 
of  man  as  a  whole.  When  it  is  perfect  and  of  the  highest 
type,  there  is  nothing  like  it.  Whatever  superiority  any 
animal  may  claim  in  some  specialty,  there  is  no  one 
whose  body  can  be  compared  with  that  of  man  in  the  com- 
bined delicacy  and  strength  and  beauty  of  its  organization, 
in  its  wide  range  of  possible  activities,  in  its  erect  pos- 
ture, in  its  power  of  articulate  speech,  and  in  that  general 
power  of  expression  by  which  it  may  become  as  the  oeolian 
harp  to  the  wind,  and  give  forth  the  whole  range  of  emo- 
tion that  nature  can  awaken,  or  that  can  stir  the  depths 
II 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.     349 

of  a  being  that  is  above  nature.  It  was  in  the  form  of 
man  that  the  ancients  represented  the  gods,  and  it  was  in 
the  form  of  man  that  He  appeared  who  "  thought  it  not 
robbery  to  be  equal  with  God."  And  if  he  could  say  of 
the  simple  lilies  of  the  field  that  "  Solomon  in  all  his  glory 
was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these,"  much  more  may  we  say 
of  the  body  of  man,  which  was  the  body  of  Christ,  that 
the  temple  of  Solomon,  in  all  its  magnificence,  was  not 
to  be  compared  with  it. 

Has  Christianity,  then,  assigned  the  body,  thus  fitted  to 
be  the  temple  of  God,  its  true  place  ?  We  say,  Yes.  We 
say  that  it  has  revealed  its  highest  end,  and  that,  in  doing 
this,  it  has  given  us  the  clue  to  its  whole  regimen  and  use. 
According  to  the  law  of  limitation  this  must  be  so.  The 
higher  can  be  attained  only  through  the  lower.  Society 
can  make  no  permanent  progress  in  connection  with  habits 
and  practices  that  deteriorate  the  body.  This  should  be 
understood.  The  body  is  so  a  part  of  ourselves  that  it 
reacts  upon  us,  and  we  become  enfeebled,  degraded,  para- 
lyzed by  its  abuse.  The  effects  of  such  abuse,  perhaps 
unsuspected,  may  pervade  society  as  a  choke-damp,  lower- 
ing its  susceptibility  to  truth,  and  stifling  its  higher  life. 
This  will  be  so  with  society  ;  it  will  be  so  with  you.  Hence 
I  call  your  attention  to  it.  If  you  are  to  be  men,  and  to 
do  the  work  of  men,  the  relations  of  the  body  to  the  spirit 
must  be  known,  and  the  laws  of  physical  well-being  must 
be  conformed  to. 

Looking  at  the  systems  of  which  the  body  is  composed, 
we  see  that  there  are  two  to  which  all  others  are  subordi- 
nate. These  are  the  muscular  and  the  nervous  systems — 
muscle  and  brain.  As  an  instrument,  and  controlled  by 
us,  each  of  these  has  its  great  function.  That  of  the  mus- 
cles is  motion,  giving  power  and  expression  ;  that  of  the 
brain  is  thought :  and  whoever  can  so  control  the  body  as 


350     THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

to  produce  all  desired  movements  in  the  easiest  and  most 
graceful  way,  and  so  as  to  think  by  it  with  all  possible 
facility  and  power,  has  attained  perfection  in  the  control 
of  the  body.  He  will  only  need  the  choice  of  right  ends, 
to  the  attainment  of  which  his  thoughts  and  movements 
shall  be  directed. 

These  two  systems,  that  of  thought  and  of  movement, 
are  capable  of  being  developed  in  harmony.  They  are  also 
capable  of  separate,  and  in  a  measure,  antagonistic  devel- 
opment. A  man  may  make  it  his  main  object,  so  to  culti- 
vate his  muscles  that  he  may  walk,  or  run,  or  wrestle,  or 
row,  or  fight  better  than  others.  He  may  train  himself  to 
be  a  prize-fighter,  and  so  draw  off  the  energy  of  the  system 
in  this  direction,  that  there  shall  be  none  left  for  thought 
and  the  higher  feelings.  To  this  there  is  a  tendency,  and 
of  it  a  danger  in  modern  physical  culture,  in  gymnasiums, 
and  boating,  and  ball-playing,  and  muscular  Christianity, 
which  is  no  Christianity  at  all. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  nervous  system  may  be  devel- 
oped to  the  neglect  and  attenuation  of  the  muscles.  It  is 
not  my  belief  that  this  is  often  done  by  sheer  study,  with 
no  self-indulgence  or  wrong  physical  habits  otherwise,  but 
it  is  done  ;  and  when  it  is,  the  end  is  lost  by  the  means 
taken  to  attain  it.  With  brains  over-wrought,  and  nerves 
over-sensitive,  and  digestion  impaired,  the  man  is  too 
feeble  to  carry  out  into  expression  and  act,  the  thought  and 
the  will  that  are  in  him. 

But  in  whichever  line  the  body  is  to  be  developed, 
there  must  be  a  submission  to  fixed  conditions.  This 
they  understand  who  train  it  solely  with  reference  to  its 
muscular  power.  They  require  men  to  rise  at  such  an 
hour,  to  eat  only  such  food,  to  exercise  so  much,  to  abstain 
from  intoxicating  drinks,  from  tobacco,  perhaps  from  other 
things.     And  this  men  submit  to.     These  trainers  have 


THE   BODY   THE   TEMPLE   OF   GOD.  351 

understood,  as  the  athletes  of  old  did,  what  the  Apostle 
means  when  he  says,  "Every  man  that  striveth  for  the 
mastery,  is  temperate  in  all  things."  He  does  nothing, 
and  indulges  in  nothing  which  will  unfit  the  body  as  an 
instrument  for  that  for  which  he  is  to  use  it. 

Now  this  is  what  we  ask,  and  all  that  we  ask,  with  ref- 
erence to  the  use  of  the  body  for  higher  ends.  In  the 
mterest  of  learning  and  of  thought^  as  you  are  scholars 
and  beneficiaries  of  the  public  through  an  institution 
endowed  by  them,  we  ask  you  not  to  fall  back  into  a  mere 
animal  life.  Except  from  the  exigencies  of  want,  we  ask 
that  no  muscular  development  shall  be  sought  beyond  the 
point  where  the  best  conditions  of  thought  are  reached ; 
and  also  that  such  training  and  regimen,  such  diet  and 
abstinence  shall  be  submitted  to  as  shall  make  you  ath- 
letes in  the  field  of  intellect.  Here  also  we  ask  you  to  be 
"  temperate  in  all  things,"  and  to  keep  your  body  under, 
not  in  the  way  of  austerity,  but  as  rational,  self-controlled 
beings  acting  for  higher  ends.  The  end  will  determine 
the  limit  of  your  liberty.  Whatever  use  you  can  make  of 
your  body  and  not  deteriorate  it  as  an  instrument  of 
thought,  that,  as  under  the  law  of  thought,  you  are  at  lib- 
erty to  make. 

And  this  is,  perhaps,  the  highest  law  that  could  be 
known  to  philosophy.  Philosophy  could  see  that  the 
intellectual  was  higher  than  the  animal  life,  and  that  it 
must  be  a  degradation  to  use  the  body  simply  as  an  in- 
strument of  sensation  w^hen  it  might  be  an  instrument  of 
intelligence,  comprehension,  reason.  Philosophy  might 
la}'  down  rules,  as  the  old  philosophers  did,  as  may  well 
be  done  now,  for  the  regulation  of  the  body  for  the  ends 
of  philosophy,  but  it  could  know  of  nothing  higher  than 
itself.  If  man  might  consecrate  his  body  as  a  temple  for 
God  to  dwell  in,  and  God  would  accept  it,  that  could  be 


352     THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

known  only  from  God.  But  while  philosophy  could  not 
know  the  fact,  because,  as  the  act  of  a  personal  God,  it  is 
outside  of  its  sphere,  that  fact  is  yet  fully  in  accordance 
with  philosophy.  It  just  meets  a  want,  and  carries  out 
the  doctrine  of  divine  aid  in  such  a  way  as  to  restore  in 
substance  the  communion  with  God  that  was  lost  in  Eden, 
and  as  to  complete  Christianity  as  a  redemptive  system. 
Anything  else  would  make  God  external  to  us,  and  Chris- 
tianity a  form.  But  now  God  is  the  living  God,  present 
with  us,  working  with  all  who  will  work  with  him ;  and 
Christianity  is  so  the  dispensation  of  the  Spirit  that  every 
Christian  may  properly  be  said  to  be  the  temple  of  God, 
and  that  every  man  who  will,  may  so  consecrate  his  body 
as  a  temple  to  God  that  God  will  dwell  with  him. 

I  am  aware  of  the  little  favor  with  which  what  I  have 
said,  and  am  to  say,  will  be  received  by  many.  I  know 
how  much  there  is  in  the  deformities  and  diseases,  and 
perversions  by  men  of  their  bodies  to  cast  discredit,  per- 
haps ridicule,  on  this  doctrine.  I  know  it  will  be  said 
that  it  is  mystical,  and  not  adapted  to  a  practical  age,  and 
that  it  trenches  too  much  on  the  enjoyment  of  life.  But  I 
know,  too,  that  the  apprehensions  of  men  respecting  what 
God  has  designed  for  them  here  are  still  greatly  inade- 
quate ;  that  their  standards,  and  tone  of  feeling,  and 
whole  plane  of  action  are  low :  and  I  believe  they  will 
hereafter  be  looked  back  upon  as  we  look  back  upon  bar- 
barism. I  know  that  civilized,  and  cultivated,  and  nomi 
nally  Christian  men  use  their  bodies,  if  with  more  saga- 
city, yet  on  the  same  principle  as  pagans  and  savages,  for 
mere  animalism.  They  eat  and  drink  and  to-morrow 
they  die.  I  know,  too,  that  except  as  you  bring  your 
bodies,  as  well  as  your  spirits,  under  the  law  of  that  which 
is  highest  for  them,  you  will  walk  all  your  lives  in  disas- 
trous echpse,  you  will  go  halting  through  your  pilgrimage. 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE   OF  GOD.  353 

It  is  this  principle,  that  of  bringing  your  bodies  under  the 
law  of  their  highest  end,  that  is  in  question  here.  Will 
you  accept  it  ?  No  hard  service  is  required  of  you,  no 
austerity,  no  penance,  no  maceration  of  the  body  for  its 
own  sake,  but  simply  the  application  of  the  principle  on 
which  the  athlete  trains  himself.  So  the  Apostle  puts  it ; 
he  kept  his  body  under  and  brought  it  into  subjection, 
but  only  that  he  might  "  so  run,  not  as  uncertainly,"  and 
"  so  fight,  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air."  Precisely  as 
the  old  athletes  placed  the  regimen  of  the  body  under  the 
law  of  its  end  so  did  he  its  Christian  regimen.  "  Now," 
says  he,  *'  they  do  it  to  obtain  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we 
an  incorruptible."  Whatever  use  you  can  make  of  the 
body  and  not  impair  its  fitness  and  efficiency  in  enabling 
you  to  obtain  that  incorruptible  crown,  you  are  at  liberty 
to  make.  That  crown  will  come,  if  it  come  at  all,  in  con- 
nection with  an  incorruptible  body ;  and  you  are  to  in- 
quire what  would  be  the  fitting  antecedents  of  such  a 
body  and  such  a  crown. 

Shall  then,  your  bodies  be  brought  under  the  law  of  that 
which  is  highest,  and  so  become  the  temples  of  God  ?  If  so, 
you  must  submit  to  the  regimen  required  by  that;  just  that, 
and  nothing  more.  And  here  we  should  expect  that  while 
the  positive  training  would  be  different,  yet  that  whatever 
would  be  excluded  by  the  lower  as  obstructive  of  perfec- 
tion, would  also  be  excluded  by  the  higher,  I  believe  that 
whatever  would  be  excluded  in  the  best  training  for  the 
physical  perfection  of  the  body,  would  also  be  excluded 
from  that  for  intellectual  power  ;  and  much  more  for  spir- 
itual insight  and  communion  with  God.  But  this  is  ques- 
tioned theoretically,  so  far  as  intellect  is  concerned,  and  dis- 
regarded practically  throughout.  It  is  said  that  a  German 
professor  can  soak  his  system  in  lager  beer,  and  saturate  it 
with  tobacco,  and  be  as  profound  a  student,  and  live  as  long 


354     THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

as  he  would  otherwise.  Be  it  so.  The  question  here  is 
not  that.  It  is  on  a  higher  plane.  It  is  whether  he  can 
do  these  things  and  consecrate  his  body  as  he  might  other- 
wise to  be  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  A  temple  may 
stand  as  long  as  it  would  otherwise,  and  be  as  strong,  and 
yet  be  defiled.  It  is  of  defilement  rather  than  of  impaired 
strength  that  a  temple  is  in  danger,  and  he  who  would  hold 
his  body  as  a  temple  must  study  and  heed  in  its  broadest 
import  the  injunction  "keep  thyself  pure.'* 

At  this  point  it  is  not  for  me  to  judge  others.  I  would 
make  every  allowance  for  prejudices  of  education  and  dif- 
ferences of  temperament.  If  there  are  exceptions  I  would 
admit  them.  But  I  may  express  my  conviction,  that  ha- 
bitual alcoholic  or  narcotic  stimulation  of  the  brain  is  not 
compatible  with  the  fullest  consecration  of  the  body  as  a 
temple  of  God.  Good  men  may  do  this  in  ignorance,  as 
other  things  prevalent  at  times  have  been  done,  and  not 
offend  their  consciences,  but  I  believe  that  greater  earn- 
estness, more  searching  self-scrutiny,  fuller  light,  would 
reveal  its  incompatibility  with  full  consecration,  and  sweep 
it  entirely  away.  The  present  position  on  this  point  of  the 
Christian  Church  as  a  whole,  and  largely  of  the  Christian 
ministry,  I  regard  as  obstructive  of  the  highest  manhood, 
and  of  the  spread  of  spiritual  religion.  I  know  that 
strong  men  have,  in  this  connection,  been  bound  as  in  fet- 
ters of  brass,  and  cast  down  from  high  places,  and  have 
found  premature  prostration  and  premature  graves,  and 
that  this  process  is  going  on  now.  Let  me  say,  therefore, 
to  those  who  expect  to  be  ministers,  that  I  believe  that 
sermons,  even  those  called  great  sermons,  which  are  the 
product  of  alcoholic  or  narcotic  stimulation,  are  a  service 
of  God  by  "  strange  fire  ;  "  and  that  for  men  to  be  scrupu- 
lous about  their  attire  as  clerical,  and  yet  to  enter  upon 
religious  services   with  narcotized  bodies,  and  a  breath 


THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.     355 

that  "  smells  to  heaven  "  of  anything  but  incense,  is  an 
incongruity  and  an  offence,  a  cropping  out  of  the  old 
Phariseeism  that  made  clean  "  the  outside  of  the  cup  and 
the  platter."  Not  that  abstinence  has  merit,  or  secures 
consecration.     It  is  only  its  best  condition. 

But  whatever  may  be  said  of  particular  practices  or 
habits,  or  conditions,  what  I  ask  your  attention  to  is  the 
thing  itself,  the  principle,  the  consecration  of  your  bodies, 
under  the  law  of  that  which  is  highest,  and  according  to 
your  best  light,  to  be  the  temples  of  God.  If  they  are  to 
be  temples  they  must  be  consecrated.  Will  you  do  that  ? 
When  this  is  done  on  the  part  of  any  one  it  involves  that 
which  is  of  higher  significance  and  more  acceptable  to 
God  than  the  consecration  of  any  cathedral  that  ever  has 
been  or  will  be  built  on  the  earth.  How  grand  a  thing  it 
is  for  any  one  in  the  freshness  of  youth  and  the  fulness  of 
strength  to  say,  "  This  body,  which  God  has  given  me,  I 
hold  as  a  temple  for  his  indwelling.  These  senses,  these 
hands,  these  feet,  this  whole  organization  shall  be  held 
as  sacred,  and  shall  be  devoted  to  no  purpose  that  I  do 
not  conscientiously  believe  will  be  pleasing  to  God." 
Can  you  do  better  ?  Does  God,  indeed,  come  to  you  and 
offer  to  dwell  with  you,  and  will  you  not  welcome  him  ? 
Welcome  Him,  and  his  presence  shall  be  to  you  an  infinite 
joy.  When  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity, 
whose  name  is  Holy,  who  dwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy 
place,  says  that  He  will  also  dwell  with  him  that  is  of  a 
contrite  and  humble  spirit,  it  is  not  for  dismay,  or  sadness, 
or  repression,  but  in  sympathy,  and  with  an  unutterable 
tenderness,  to  "  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to 
revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones." 

I  have  only  to  add  that  whatever  course  you  may  take, 
whether  you  do,  or  not  recognize  the  claims  of  God,  "  you 
are  not  your  own."     You  may  seek,  as  most  do,  to  appro- 


356      THE  BODY  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD. 

priate  yourselves  to  your  own  selfish  ends,  and  thus  rob 
God,  but  "  ye  are  not  your  own."  These  are  the  words 
that  I  would  leave  sounding  in  your  ears,  "Ye  are  not  your 
own."  You  do  not  belong  to  yourselves.  You  belong  to 
God.  You  belong  to  humanity.  You  belong  to  a  world 
that  is  waiting  for  your  help.  You  belong  thus  to  God 
and  to  humanity  as  the  creatures  and  children  of  God,  and 
members  in  common  of  his  great  rational  and  moral  fam- 
ily and  kingdom.  You  also  belong  to  God  and  to  human- 
ity by  a  more  tender  tie.  Not  only  are  you  not  your  own 
as  the  creatures  of  God,  but  "  Ye  are  not  your  ov^n^for  yg 
are  bought  with  a  price — therefore  glorify  God  in  your  body 
and  in  your  spirit,  which  are  God's." 
II* 


XX. 


THE  CIRCULAR  AND   THE  ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

That  which  hath  been  is  now,  and  that  which  is  to  be  hath  already  been  ;  and 
God  requireth  that  which  is  past.— Ecclesiastes,  iii.  15. 

'\  T  .^E  are  told  by  astronomers,  that  our  planetary  sys- 
V  V  tern  has  two  movements  ;  one  circular,  by  which 
the  motions  return  upon  themselves  ;  and  the  other,  on- 
ward in  infinite  space.  By  the  first  of  these  the  system  is 
maintained  as  a  system.  The  circling  bodies  composing 
it  now  approach  each  other,  and  now  recede  till  they 
return  to  their  first  position,  thus  perpetuating  from  age 
to  age,  the  mystic  dance  of  the  heavens. 

Of  these  movements,  those  that  are  circular  can  be 
calculated,  and  in  regard  to  them  the  astronomer,  relying 
upon  the  stability  of  the  order  of  nature,  may  say,  "  That 
which  hath  been  is  now,  and  that  which  is  to  be  hath 
already  been."  But  the  onward  movement  cannot  be 
calculated.  By  that  the  whole  system,  the  sun  and  all 
his  train  of  planets  and  secondaries  and  comets,  is  moving 
on  in  space,  perhaps  in  a  right  line,  perhaps  around 
some  centre  at  an  inconceivable  distance  ;  and  of  this 
movement,  its  object  and  its  limit,  we  know  nothing.  We 
have  no  data  for  calculation,  and  the  mighty  secret  must 
rest  with  God  till  He  shall  please  to  reveal  it. 

Not  unlike  these  are  the  two  great  movements  of 
human  life.  There  is  a  succession  of  events,  making  up 
much  of  what  we  call  life,  constantly  beginning,  never  end- 


35^  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

ing,  which  is  repeated  over  and  over  every  generation. 
There  is  also  a  progressive  movement,  both  of  the  indivi- 
dual and  of  the  race,  which  does  not  return  upon  itself, 
the  objects  and  limits  of  which  are  known  to  man  only  as 
it  has  pleased  God  to  reveal  them.  It  is  with  this  latter 
UKn'ement  that  man  is  connected  as  responsible  under  the 
moral  and  permanent  government  of  God.  That  which  is 
once  past  here,  is  fixed  forever,  and  God  requireth  it. 

It  is  only  as  we  keep  in  view  these  two  movements, 
that  we  have  a  key  to  the  apparently  discrepant  assertions 
of  the  wise  man.  Now  we  hear  him  say  that  "  all  things 
come  alike  to  all ; "  that  "  there  is  one  event  to  the  right- 
eous and  to  the  wicked."  And  so,  for  the  most  part,  there 
is  in  the  circular  movement.  But  again  we  hear  him  say, 
"  I  know  that  it  shall  be  well  with  them  that  fear  God, 
which  fear  before  Him  ;  but  it  shall  not  be  well  with  the 
wicked."     And  so  it  always  is  with  the  onward  movement. 

Looking  at  the  circular  movement,  permanent  indeed  in 
its  successions,  yet  so  transient  for  the  individual,  Solomon 
speaks  of*  all  things  as  "  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit," 
and  "  full  of  labor."  And,  regarding  life  in  this  aspect, 
how  striking  are  the  emblems  chosen  by  him  to  represent 
it.  He  compares  it  to  the  sun  that  "  ariseth,  and  goeth 
down,  and  hasteth  again  to  the  place  where  he  arose  ; '' 
to  the  wind  "  that  goeth  toward  the  south,  and  turneth 
about  unto  the  north,  that  whirleth  about  continually,  and 
returneth  again  according  to  its  circuits  ;  "  to  the  rivers 
that  "  are  taken  from  the  sea,  and  return  again  to  the 
place  whence  they  arose."  But  not  so  does  he  speak 
when  he  surveys  the  whole  of  life.  Looking  also  at  the 
onward  movement  and  its  issues,  he  condenses  all  wisdom 
into  one  brief  utterance,  and  says,  "  Let  us  hear  the  con- 
clusion of  the  whole  matter.  Fear  God,  and  keep  his 
commandments,  for  this   is  the  whole  duty  of  man.     For 


CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  359 

God  will  bring  every  work  into  judgment,  with  every 
secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good  or  whether  it  be  evil," 
*'  God  requireth  that  which  is  past." 

It  is  as  they  are  brought  within  the  sweep  of  this  circu- 
lar, or,  if  you  please,  iterated  movement,  that  the  genera- 
tions come  and  go,  each  another,  and  yet  the  same.  In 
its  great  features  the  succession  of  events  is  recurrent,  and 
"  that  which  hath  been  is  now."  To  those  who  went  before 
us  there  were  the  same  senses  and  the  same  gifts  of  intel- 
lect as  to  us.  Their  eyes  beheld  the  same  sun  j  they 
watched  the  same  seasons  as  they  came  and  went ;  the 
trees,  the  mountains,  the  streams,  the  flying  clouds,  the 
stars  of  night,  were  the  same  to  them  as  to  us.  There  was 
to  them  the  same  period  of  helpless,  ignorant  infancy ;  of 
curious,  wondering,  wayward  childhood ;  of  inexperienced 
and  perilous  youth,  and  then  the  time  came,  which  among 
some  ancient  nations  was  celebrated  as  a  festival,  when  the 
manly  robe  was  put  on,  and  they  were  committed  to  their 
own  guidance.  And,  "That  which  hath  been  is  now."  As 
young  men  you  now  stand  where  others  have  stood  before 
you,  and  the  same  doubts,  and  hopes  and  fears  that  agi- 
tated them  now  agitate  you.  The  same  veil  of  futurity  that 
once  rested  over  their  prospects,  now  rests  over  yours. 
Can  that  veil  be  raised  ?  In  some  measure  it  may,  for  we 
are  told  not  only  that  "  that  which  hath  been  is  now,"  but 
that  "  that  which  is  to  be  hath  already  been." 

In  illustrating  this  part  of  the  subject  I  observe,  First, 
that  it  is  to  be  with  you  as  it  has  already  been  with  those 
who  have  gone  before  you,  in  the  diminution  of  your  num- 
bers by  death,  and  in  the  physical  changes  that  are  to  pass 
upon  you. 

It  has  been  in  time  past  that  one  and  another  from  the 
ranks  of  those  who  have  been  associated  as  friends  has  been 
14 


360  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

arrested  in  his  career  at  no  distant  period,  and  has  found 
an  early  grave.  And  so  it  will  be  with  some  of  you.  By 
consumption,  by  fever,  by  accident,  slowly,  or  suddenly, 
the  grasp  of  the  destroyer  will  be  fixed  upon  you.  And  can 
it  be  that  to  any  of  you  the  bright  morning  shall  be  over- 
cast, and  your  sun  go  down  before  it  is  noon  ?  Ah,  if  we 
could  but  know  whose  eye  must  first  be  dim,  whose  heart 
first  cease  to  beat,  whose  account  must  first  be  rendered 
up !  We  cannot  know,  but  there  is  One  who  does,  and 
the  days  may  be  few  that  shall  reveal  the  fearful  secret  to 
the  startled  consciousness  of  him  who  least  expects  it. 
Thus  one  will  go,  and  the  time  of  another,  and  of  another 
will  come.  Meanwhile  the  finger  of  Time  will  begin  to  trace 
its  furrows  upon  the  brow  of  those  of  you  who  remain,  and 
his  hand  to  scatter  its  frosts  upon  your  heads.  You  will 
see  another  generation  coming  up  to  take  your  places,  and 
will  think  it  wonderful  how  fast  they  come.  You  will  be- 
gin to  be  called  old  men,  and  be  surprised  at  it ;  you  will 
begin  to  be  old  men,  till  one  and  another  shall  pass  away 
and  the  last  man  shall  be  left  alone  bending  with  years, 
and  tottering  upon  the  brink  of  the  grave. 

In  view,  then,  of  the  certainty  of  death,  and  the  un- 
certainty of  the  time,  lay  no  plan  of  life  into  which  provi- 
sion for  it  as  possible  at  any  time,  does  not  enter.  "  Watch, 
for  you  know  not  at  what  hour  the  house  may  be  broken 
through." 

And  as  there  are  physical  changes  which  are  common 
and  inevitable  to  the  race,  so  also  there  are  mental 
changes. 

It  has  been  said  that  when  the  mind  takes  its  own 
course,  the  ruling  passion  in  youth  is  pleasure,  in  middle 
life  fame,  and  in  old  age  avarice.  And  probably,  if  the 
character  be  not  formed  on  fixed  principles  under  the 
moral  government  of  God,  some  such  change  of  object  does 


CIRCULAR  AND  ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  36 1 

usually  take  place.  Certainly  as  age  comes  on  the  ardor 
of  the  passions  will  cool,  the  imagination  will  be  chastened, 
and  the  judgment  will  predominate  more.  Then  the  power 
of  habit  will  reveal  itself  more  strongly.  Your  thoughts, 
your  feelings,  your  associations,  your  pursuits  will  run  on 
in  settled  courses  that  will  not  be  easily  broken  up.  The 
metal  now  so  ready  to  fluctuate  and  so  impressible,  will 
harden,  and  will  be  taking  its  final-  impress  for  eternity. 
As  the  body  decays  so  will  the  mind,  or  seem  to,  just  as 
the  sun  seems  to  be  going  out  when  the  cloud  thickens 
before  him.  First,  the  perceiving  faculties  will  fail,  then 
the  memory,  then  the  judgment,  and  then  second  childhood 
will  have  come. 

Whether  it  is  desirable  for  any  one  to  reach  this  point 
God  only  knows,  but  they  are  to  be  pitied  who  do  reach 
it,  having  earned  no  title  to  the  respect  and  love  of  those 
who  come  after. 

I  observe,  again,  that  it  is  to  be  with  you  as  it  has 
already  been  with  those  who  have  gone  before  you,  in  your 
failure  to  carry  out  your  plans  of  life. 

Young  men  generally  form  to  themselves  some  plan  of 
life,  and  this  is  right,  but  it  should  be  only  in  a  general 
way.  The  two  forces  by  which  the  direction  of  human  life 
is  determined,  and  which  act  and  react  upon  each  other, 
are  the  human  will,  and  the  course  of  events.  But  the 
course  of  events  is  under  the  control  of  God,  and  it  is  by 
means  of  this  that  "  He  turneth  the  hearts  of  men  as  the 
rivers  of  water  are  turned."  So  influential,  indeed,  is  this, 
that  the  Prophet  could  say,  "  I  know,  O  Lord,  that  it  is 
not  in  man  that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps."  By  the 
course  of  events  God  can  hedge  up  your  way  in  any  par- 
ticular'direction  ;  He  can  take  off  the  chariot- wheels  of 
your  ambition,  and  can  open  to  you  new  and  unexpected 


7i^^  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

vistas  of  hope  and  of  effort.  Few  are  there,  much  ad- 
vanced in  life,  who  cannot  look  back  to  unexpected  events 
that  have  so  become  turning-points  in  their  lives  that  they 
have  been  led  in  a  way  they  knew  not. 

And  so,  doubtless,  it  will  be  with  you.  While,  there- 
fore, you  heed  duly  the  fixed  course  of  God's  providence, 
and  use  vigorously  your  faculties  in  studying  its  indications, 
falling  into  no  indolence  or  imbecility  as  those  do  who 
wait  for  things  to  turn  up,  you  are  yet  not  to  map  the 
future  with  unchanging  lines.  Mistake  not  for  a  long  line 
of  coast,  the  headland  that  may  round  you  into  another 
sea.  Go  up  no  hill  before  you  come  to  it.  Live  in  the 
spirit  of  the  petition  which  asks  for  daily  bread  Thus 
doing,  the  failure  to  carry  out  your  plans  may  be  the 
source,  not  only  of  no  regret,  but  of  thankfulness  and  joy. 

These  things  have  been  in  times  past;  they  will  be  in 
time  to  come.  They  do  not  depend  upon  chance,  or  the 
will  of  man,  but  upon  the  settled  laws  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence. There  are,  however,  other  things  which  "  have 
been  "  so  universally  that  we  expect  them  with  almost  the 
same  certainty  as  the  rising  of  the  sun,  and  yet  we  see  no 
necessity  for  them.  Of  these  it  may  be  said,  as  our  Sa- 
viour said  of  offences,  "  it  must  needs  be  that  they  come, 
but  woe  to  the  man  by  whom  they  come."  We  may  cer- 
tainly expect  them,  but  they  may  be  avoided  by  each 
individual. 

Judging,  then,  from  the  past,  it  will  be  that  some  of  you 
will  so  far  find  in  the  circular  movement  the  chief  objects 
of  study  as  to  become  one-sided  and  narrow. 

It  is  the  circular  movement  that  is  the  ground  and 
sphere  of  science  ;  and  as  we  found  in  the  two  movements 
a  key  to  the  seeming  discrepancies  in  the  Book  of  Eccle- 
siastes,  so  do  we  find  in  them  a  key  to  the  alleged  want  of 
harmony  between  science  and  religion.     Science,  that  is, 


CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD    MOVEMENT.  363 

natural  science,  which  alone  is  in  question  here,  has  its 
basis  in  those  works  of  God  which  are  the  expression  ot 
his  natural  attributes,  as  his  intelligence  and  power,  and 
which  reveal  themselves  in  the  circular  movement.  Reli- 
gion, on  the  other  hand,  has  for  its  basis  the  moral  attri- 
butes of  God,  which  find  their  scope  and  distinctive  sphere 
in  the  onward  movement.  The  harmony,  therefore,  be- 
tween science  and  religion  must  be,  and  must  ultimately 
be  found  to  be,  just  as  perfect  as  it  is  between  the  natural 
and  the  moral  attributes  of  God. 

In  science,  as  based  on  the  circular  movement,  the 
instruments  are  observation,  experiment,  and  experience. 
Making  use  of  these,  and  assuming  the  uniformity  of 
nature,  science  claims  the  right  to  proceed  outwards  in 
space,  and  from  that  which  is  here,  and  can  be  observed, 
to  affirm  uniformity  of  agency  and  of  structure  where  ob- 
servation cannot  go.  It  also  claims,  and  on  the  same 
ground,  to  proceed  onwards  in  time,  and  from  that  which 
is  observed  now,  to  affirm  uniformity  of  succession  in 
events  yet  to  come.  And  this  is  all  that  natural  science 
can  do.  It  knows  of  force,  stability,  order,  uniformity ;  it 
bases  itself  on  these,  but  of  a  Being  back  of  all,  of  a  cause, 
of  uniformity  with  a  purpose  and  as  the  result  of  will,  it 
knows  nothing.  Of  a  miracle,  of  anything  free  and  super- 
natural, it  knows  and  can  know  nothing.  These  are, 
indeed,  the  very  things  that  modern  science  seeks  to 
ignore  and  exclude. 

Religion,  on  the  other  hand,  has  revelation  in  the 
place  of  observation  and  experience ;  and,  as  has  been 
said,  has  the  moral  attributes  of  God  finding  their  distinc- 
tive sphere  in  the  onward  movement,  for  its  basis.  It  is 
within  this  sphere  that  we  find  occasion  for  the  superna- 
tural. Indeed,  the  movement  itself  is  supernatural.  To 
this  the  circular  movement,  nature,  uniform,  improgressive. 


364  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

necessitated,  is  wholly  subordinate.  It  is  but  as  the 
staging  to  the  building,  the  theatre  to  the  drama,  the  field 
to  the  battle.  Therefore  any,  the  least  miracle  for  amoral 
purpose,  is  of  higher  significance  than  the  whole  of  nature 
as  indicating  the  presence  and  supremacy  of  a  personal 
being  who  is  other  than  nature,  and  is  its  Lord.  The  har- 
mony, therefore,  of  the  natural  with  the  supernatural,  and 
so  of  science  with  religion,  will  be  found  in  the  subordina- 
tion of  the  lower  to  the  higher ;  and  when  this  subordina- 
tion shall  be  seen  to  be  complete,  the  harmony  of  science 
with  religion  will  be  perfect,  and  not  till  then. 

But  if  this  be  so,  how  obvious  is  it  that  those  who  re- 
cognize only  the  lower  movement  must  be  one-sided  and 
narrow.  Nor  is  this  always  the  worst.  Not  a  few  votaries 
of  mere  science,  especially  positivists,  become  not  only 
narrow,  but  bitter,  and  make  it  their  special  function  to 
stand  at  the  entrance  of  the  paths  to  the  higher  knowledge 
and  scoff  at  those  who  would  enter  in.  While,  therefore, 
you  give  science  its  proper  place,  and  that  a  high  place, 
you  will  not,  I  trust,  fail  to  find  enlargement  and  com- 
pleteness in  that  which  is  higher. 

But  if  there  is  danger  that  you  will  find  within  the  cir- 
cular movement  the  sole  objects  of  the  intellect,  much 
more  is  there  that  you  will  find  in  connection  with  that  the 
sole  objects  of  affection  and  of  choice.  Not  apprehending 
rightly  the  relation  between  the  circular  and  the  onward 
movement,  it  is  greatly  to  be  feared  that  some  of  you  will 
either  pursue  some  phantom  that  cannot  be  grasped,  or 
will  grasp  that  which  will  turn  to  ashes  in  your  hand. 
Then  will  come  disappointment,  and  a  temper  irritated 
against  Providence,  and  soured  towards  the  world.  Then 
the  chill  and  the  gloom  for  which  nature  knows  of  no 
morning,  will  begin  to  set  in. 

So  has   this   been  with  many  in  the  past.     Shall  it  be 


CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  365 

SO  with  you  ?  Shall  not  the  experience  of  the  past  benefit 
you  ?  Do  you  not  live  in  the  ninteenth  century,  after  two 
hundred  generations  of  men  with  their  hopes  and  fears  and 
follies  have  come  and  gone,  and  shall  you  be  no  wiser  for 
witnessing  the  things  that  have  been  ?  Most  obvious  is  it 
that  mankind  as  a  race,  have  not  been  thus  made  wiser. 
Is  not  vanity  as  much  enamored  of  itself  as  it  was  at  the 
beginning  ?  Are  the  votaries  of  fashion,  and  the  slaves  of 
conventional  forms,  diminished  in  number  ?  Is  the  race 
of  mere  pleasure-seekers  coming  to  an  end?  Do  not 
young  men  start  in  the  race  of  ambition,  and  strive  to  be 
great  men  as  much  as  if  there  had  not  been  a  great  man 
in  every  town  and  neighborhood  since  the  time  of  the 
flood  ?  Is  not  un happiness  still  imputed  to  the  condition 
in  life  rather  than  to  the  moral  state  ?  And  hence,  do  not 
men  still  say,  "  When  we  have  removed  such  an  inconve- 
nience, have  attained  such  an  object,  we  shall  be  happy  "  ? 
Are  there  more  than  of  old  who  come  to  a  pause  in  all  this, 
and  deliberately  say  to  themselves,  as  most  men  might, 
*'  So  far  as  worldly  good  is  concerned,  I  am  as  happy  now 
as  I  can  expect  to  be.  Having  food  and  raiment,  I  will 
therewith  be  content."  Is  there  less  than  formerly  of 
insane  disregard  of  death,  and  judgment,  and  eternity? 
In  all  these  respects  the  experience  of  others  seems  to  do 
the  mass  of  men  little  more  good  than  it  does  the  fishes 
and  the  birds  ;  for,  "  as  the  fishes  that  are  taken  in  an 
evil  net,  and  the  birds  that  are  caught  in  the  snare,  so," 
even  yet,  "  are  the  sons  of  men  snared  in  an  evil  time, 
when  it  falleth  suddenly  upon  them."  Notwithstanding 
the  experience  of  the  past,  when  the  necessary  result  of 
their  own  conduct  reaches  them,  when  the  net  comes  over 
them,  it  comes  suddenly  ;  they  are  amazed ;  they  supposed 
that  they  should  escape.  But  shall  this  be  so  with  you  ? 
You  may  succeed  in  the  lower  sense  of  that  word.     You 


366  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

may  become  rich  ;  may  come  to  be  the  first  man  in  a  vil- 
lage, or  a  member  of  Congress,  or  the  Governor  of  a  State, 
or  the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  may  suppose 
yourselves  to  be  engaged,  as  ten  thousands  have  before 
you,  in  the  most  important  and  momentous  concerns  that 
have  ever  transpired.  But,  however  high  you  may  rise, 
you  will  be  borne  up  by  a  wave  that  has  risen  quite  as 
high  before,  and  when  it  subsides  it  will  strand  you  where 
it  has  stranded  others,  and  leave  you  to  neglect,  while  the 
popular  gaze  is  waiting  for  him  who  is  to  succeed  you. 
Thus  have  all  schemes  of  life  based  on  the  circular  move- 
ment, failed  hitherto.  They  must  in  the  time  to  come. 
"  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  which  shall  be." 

Do  I,  then,  disparage  the  world  ?  Far  from  it.  It  is 
God's  world.  He  made  it :  not  in  mockery  of  his  crea- 
tures, or  for  their  disappointment,  but  for  their  use.  It  is 
just  such  a  world  as  is  adapted  to  man  in  his  present  con- 
dition^  and,  so  viewed,  every  creature  in  it  is  good.  It  is 
marvellous  in  its  adjustments  and  in  its  provisions.  It  is 
pleasant  to  live  in  it.  It  is  pleasant  to  behold  the  sun,  to 
investigate  truth,  to  feel  the  glow  and  warmth  of  the  domes- 
tic and  social  affections,  to  be  in  sympathy  with  the  inter- 
ests and  struggles  of  our  humanity  in  this  transient  state, 
and  to  work  for  its  advancement.  The  world  is  good  for 
what  it  was  intended  to  be  ;  but  an  inn  is  not  a  home. 
It  is  no  disparagement  of  it  to  say  so ;  and  when  he  who 
would  make  it  one  is  disappointed,  it  is  his  own  fault.  If 
the  world  shall  disappoint  you,  it  will  be  your  own  fault. 
It  will  be  because  you  attempt  to  make  of  it  what  He  did 
not  intend  it  should  be;  and  what  you  may  know,  if  you 
will,  that  He  did  not  intend  it  should  be.  The  great  mis- 
take of  men  is,  that  they  do  not  rightly  adjust  their  plans 
to  the  relation  between  the  circular  and  the  onward  move- 
ment.    The  relation  here,  as  in  the  intellect  and  in  science, 


CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  367 

is  one  of  subordination.  Here  the  law  of  limitation  comes 
in  and  gives  you  your  key.  Make  as  much  as  you  will  of 
the  objects  and  interests  of  the  circular  movement  if  you 
do  but  so  subordinate  them  to  those  of  the  onward  move- 
ment that  they  shall  contribute  in  the  highest  degree  to 
the  interests  involved  in  that.  This  it  is  that  Christianity 
would  teach  you  to  do  ;  and  in  thus  harmonizing  the  two 
movements  to  reach  the  highest  results  possible  in  con- 
nection with  each.  The  circular  movement  is  subordi- 
nate. It  was  intended  to  be.  If  that  movement  were  all ; 
if  life  were  but  the  same  round  over  and  over  ;  we  might 
well  go  about,  as  Solomon  did  when  he  looked  at  it  in  this 
aspect,  to  cause  our  hearts  to  despair  of  all  the  labor  that 
we  take  under  the  sun.     But  that  is  not  all — 

"  'Tis  not  the  whole  of  life  to  live, 
Nor  all  of  death  to  die." 

There  is  an  onward  movement  in  which  that  which 
hath  been,  is  not  now ;  and  that  which  is  now,  shall  never 
be  again.  It  is  that  which  gives  to  life  its  dignity.  Con- 
nected with  that  are  the  higher  hopes,  the  nobler  purposes, 
and  the  supreme  end  of  man. 

And  here  there  opens  to  us  the  grandest  subject  of 
thought  in  the  universe  of  God.  It  might  seem,  when  we 
dwell  upon  infinite  space  that  has  no  centre  and  no  circum- 
ference, and  upon  those  worlds  of  light  within  it  which  the 
night  reveals,  and  upon  those  myriads  more  which  the  tele- 
scope calls  up,  that  the  feeling  of  grandeur  must  arise  to 
its  highest  point.  But  no  ;  that  all  belongs  to  the  circular 
movement.  It  is  but  matter  and  its  forces — the  domain  of 
mere  science,  with  no  power  to  reveal  anything  outside  of 
itself,  or  above  itself.  View  it  as  you  will,  investigate  it  as 
you  will,  and  what  can  any  progress  man  may  make  in  the 


368  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

knowledge  of  processes  and  results  within  this  movement 
amount  to?  Progress  !  Is  not  death  a  part  of  this  same 
movement  ?  and  is  not  all  progress  here  accompanied  by 
a  progress  towards  that? 

Yes,  Death  !  That  is  a  word  at  the  sound  of  which 
science  is  dumb.  Here  is  a  man  standing  under  the  array 
which  night  reveals.  By  his  side  is  a  new-made  grave. 
He  has  come  there  to  mourn  ;  and  pointing  to  that  grave, 
and  looking  up,  he  asks  of  the  blue  depths,  and  of  the 
starry  hosts,  "  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  The  heavens  do 
not  hear  him  ;  the  depths  and  the  stars  are  silent ;  no  tele- 
scope can  pierce  so  far  as  to  read  an  answer.  Turning 
then,  from  these  vast  spaces  and  forces  to  that  opposite 
sphere  of  science,  where  she  delves  and  peers,  and  seems 
to  be  seeking  for  that  nothing  out  of  which  all  things 
were  made,  and  pointing  to  the  same  grave,  he  asks  the 
microscope,  and  the  crucible,  and  the  retort,  "  What  does 
that  mean  ? "  and  they  make  no  reply.  Then,  looking 
around,  and  below,  and  above  him,  he  cries  out,  "  O 
thou  mysterious  circling,  pitiless,  all-engulphing  Nature, 
speak.  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  And  the  moon  glides 
on  in  her  course,  and  the  stars  shine,  and  "there  is  no 
voice  nor  any  that  regardeth."  But  who  is  this  that  has 
heard  the  question,  not  of  this  man  only,  but  of  humanity, 
and  stands  by  his  side  ?  He  wears  the  form  of  a  man, 
but  his  words  imply  the  resources  of  omnipotence,  and 
He  says,  "  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again."  "  I  am  the  resur- 
rection and  the  life  :  he  that  liveth  and  believeth  in  me, 
shall  never  die."  Now  Nature  and  its  laws,  matter  and 
its  forces,  death  and  its  terrors,  are  under  our  feet.  We 
have  now  found  Him  "  who  has  abolished  death,  and 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light."  Now,  being  lifted 
above  the  circular  movement,  and  released  from  the  bonds 
of  necessity,  we  come  up  into  the  region  of  freedom  and 


CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  369 

of  personality.  Now  we  find  a  personal  God  ;  now  a  uni- 
verse, not  merely  strewn  with  suns  and  planets,  fixed,  or 
in  orderly  movement,  but  peopled  with  intelligences  in  the 
likeness  of  God — an  innumerable  company  of  angels  and 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect.  Now  we  reach  the 
true  sublimities  ;  now  the  onward  movement. 

As  has  been  said,  the  onward  movement  connects 
itself  with  the  moral  government  of  God,  and  with  man  as 
responsible.  It  is  within  this  that  we  find  the  supernatural. 
Within  this,  and  as  a  part  of  this,  we  find  miracles.  Here, 
also,  we  find  prophecy,  properly  so  called.  Science  can 
prophesy,  but  only  within  her  own  domain.  She  can  tell  us 
that  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow,  andean  predict  an  eclipse. 
She  can  even  foretell  the  weather,  because  "  the  wind  re- 
turneth  again  according  to  his  circuits,"  but  she  could  not 
foretell  the  coming  of  Christ,  nor  his  crucifixion,  nor  his 
resurrection  and  ascension ;  nor  does  she  know  anything 
of  the  time  of  his  second  coming,  or  of  his  coming  at  all.  It 
was  as  a  part  of  this  movement,  and  wholly  in  its  interest, 
that  Christ  came  ;  and  He  is  its  central  figure.  This  pre- 
cludes comparison  between  him  and  any  philosopher.  Ex- 
cept as  a  condition  of  something  higher  and  as  holding  it 
in  subjection,  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  circular  move- 
ment. As  that  movement  is  known  by  science  and  con- 
trolled by  its  methods,  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  His 
method  of  knowledge  within  it  was  not  induction,  but 
insight ;  his  method  of  control  was  not  through  law,  but 
through  will  manifesting  itself  in  miracle.  He  simply  said 
to  one  and  another  of  the  elements  and  forces  of  nature, 
as  the  centurion  said  to  his  servant,  "  Go,"  and  it  went ; 
"  Come,"  and  it  came.  For  Him  to  have  discovered,  or  to 
have  propounded  scientific  methods,  or  to  have  controlled 
nature  after  the  manner  of  science,  would  have  been  a 
degradation.     With  Him  everything  was  on  another  plane, 


3/0  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD    MOVEMENT. 

and  only  as  his  miracles  were  subservient  to  the  interests 
within  the  onward  movement,  to  the  establishment  of  truth 
within  that,  and  to  moral  progress,  are  they  lifted  practi- 
cally above  juggleries  and  mere  wonders. 

]\Ioral  progress — character,  a  character  radically  right,  * 
and  then  improvement  in  that — this  gives  us  progress  in 
connection  with  a  movement  that  turns  not  back  upon 
itself,  that  always  records  itself,  and  in  which  the  past  is 
always  required.  It  is  to  this  progress  that  I  wish  to  call 
your  special  attention,  and  concerning  it,  I  have  three 
things  to  say. 

The  first  is,  that  it  is  the  only  progress  worth  making ; 
or,  at  least,  that  without  this  all  other  progress  is  relatively 
worthless. 

The  second  is,  that  this  progress  will  draw  after  it  all 
other  progress,  and  make  it  permanent ;  and  that  nothing 
else  can.  And  just  here  it  is  that  we  find  the  special  wis- 
dom and  glory  of  Christ,  in  that  while  he  seems  to  ignore 
science  and  art,  and  in  a  sense  to  disregard  the  interests 
of  the  circular  movement,  he  yet  initiated  and  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  a  movement  that  has  but  to  become  univer- 
sal to  draw  within  its  sweep  the  most  rapid  and  only  per- 
manent progress  in  all  things  else.  The  planets  follow 
the  sun.  The  greater  includes  the  less,  the  higher  the 
lower.  In  that  saying  of  his,  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom 
of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be 
added  unto  you,"  there  is  not  only  the  sum  of  religion, 
but  more  of  philosophy  than  in  all  heathendom.  It  shows 
a  knowledge  of  the  structure  of  God's  universe  from  foun- 
dation to  turret ;  and  of  its  administration  from  the  begin- 
ning throughout  all  ages.  Moral  progress  must  take  the 
lead.  This  is  Christ's  method.  With  this,  progress  in  all 
else  will  follow  ;  will  be  permanent  and  perpetual.  With 
out   this,  the  generations  will  but  perform   the  labor  ol 


CIRCULAR  AND  ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  37 1 

Sisyphus.  When  a  given  point  is  reached  there  will  be 
retrogression.  Itself  the  one  thing  needful,  it  involves 
the  wisdom  and  method  of  all  reform  that  can  avail  much  ; 
and  when  reformers  learn  this,  and  begin  at  home,  the 
wheels  of  progress  will  begin  to  revolve  rapidly,  and  their 
grating  and  jarring,  now  so  dissonant,  will  cease. 

The  third  thing  which  I  wish  to  say  is,  that  as  this 
progress  must  be  through  Christ's  method,  so  also  must 
it  be  through  his  power  and  leadership.  He  must  be 
recognized  as  the  head  of  the  race.  He  is  its  head.  For 
all  who  shall  fulfil,  and,  under  Him,  more  than  fulfil  the 
destiny  of  our  original  humanity,  He  is  the  second  Adam; 
and  the  one  thing  needed  by  those  who  would  make  pro- 
gress in  the  onward  movement,  is  a  personal  relation  to 
Him,  through  which  they  may  receive  His  guidance  and 
aid.  For  the  race  in  its  anticipations  of  a  happier  future 
on  earth,  no  less  than  for  the  individual  in  the  great  fu- 
ture, He  must  be  "  the  Captain  of  our  salvation."  With- 
out Him  we  can  do  nothing. 

In  connection  with  what  social  or  physical  convulsions 
this  progress  is  to  go  forward,  or  whether  in  quietness, 
we  can  know  only  from  revelation.  Unaided  by  that,  we 
find  ourselves,  in  our  attempt  to  take  the  bearings  of  this 
onward  movement,  without  a  chart  in  the  open  sea.  It  is 
all  sky  above  with  no  polar  star,  and  all  ocean  below. 
Respecting  this  movement  science  knows  nothing.  But 
from  revelation  w^e  do  know,  whatever  may  intervene,  that 
there  is  to  come  at  some  point  an  arrest  to  the  present 
order  of  things,  a  solution  of  the  perplexing  problems  con- 
nected with  it,  and  a  new  adjustment  on  the  basis  of  a  final 
separation  of  the  righteous  and  the  wicked.  It  is  by 
revelation  alone  that  we  know  the  astronomy  of  the  moral 
heavens,  and  that  the  movement  of  our  whole  system  is 
towards  a  day  of  reckoning  and  a  judgment  seat.     Upon 


372  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD  MOVEMENT. 

that  seat — the  throne  of  His  glory — we  know  that  He  will 
be  seated  who  was  once  crowned  with  thorns,  and  that 
"before  Him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations."  We  shall 
be  there;  and  God  will  require  of  each  one  of  us  that 
which  is  past. 

To  me,  the  thought  of  this  responsibility,  in  the  onward 
movement,  is  especially  solemn  as  I  look  back.  Oh,  how 
much  that  needs  to  be  forgiven !  How  much  that  might 
have  been  more  wisely,  and  faithfully,  and  better  done ! 
But  for  you,  while  the  thought  must  indeed  have  solem- 
nity as  you  look  back,  yet,  entering  as  you  are  upon  life, 
with  the  power  to  make  of  that  which  is  to  be  your  past  what 
you  please,  it  will,  perhaps,  have  more  solemnity  as  you 
look  to  the  future.  The  past  which  you  will  thus  make, 
you  will  look  back  upon  without  regret  in  proportion  as 
you  subordinate,  in  accordance  with  the  doctrine  of  this 
discourse,  the  circular  to  the  onward  movement — as  you 
seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Nor,  if  you  understand  the  relation  of  these  two  move- 
ments as  Christianity  presents  them,  will  the  doing  of  this 
diminish  your  interest  in  anything  that  pertains  to  the 
lower  and  circular  movement.  Here,  again,  it  is  the  glory 
of  Christianity,  and  a  demonstration  of  its  truth,  that  it 
so  brings  these  two  movements  into  harmony,  that,  while 
it  presents  in  the  strongest  possible  light  the  vanity  of 
passing  objects  and  scenes  considered  as  an  end,  it  does 
not  lessen  our  interest  or  activity  in  them.  Not  only,  as 
has  been  said,  does  Christianity  make  the  most  of  the  two 
movements  in  their  result — so  that  we  gain  our  lives  by 
losing  them — it  also  makes  the  most  of  them  as  they  call 
forth  our  energies,  so  that  we  become  more  active  in  the 
duties  of  time  as  we  care  less  for  its  objects.  It  makes 
us  more  "diligent  in  business  "  as  we  become  "fervent  in 
spirit,  serving  the  Lord."     It  is  thus  that  all  human  em- 


CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT.  3/3 

ployments  may  become  equal  in  the  sight  of  God,  for  He 
regards  them  as  there  is  manifested  through  them  a  pur- 
pose and  temper  that  conspire  with  the  onward  movement 
of  his  moral  government.  Whatever  stands  related  to  that, 
and  as  it  stands  thus  related,  has  grandeur  in  it.  What 
man  is  this  who  is  so  earnestly  at  work  in  the  very  humble 
employment  of  making  a  fine  powder  still  more  fine  by 
constant  attrition.?  It  is  Michael  Angelo,  grinding  the 
paints  with  which  he  is  to  paint  for  eternity.  The  humble 
duties  must  be  done  ;  the  paints  must  be  ground  ;  but  they 
will  be  ground  all  the  better  if  we  feel  that  we  are  to  paint 
for  eternity  with  them.  There  are  duties  towards  God,  in- 
dispensable, the  highest  of  all,  but  they  can  never  be  ac- 
ceptably performed  in  the  wilful  disregard  or  neglect  of  any 
duty  toward  man.  You  are  never  to  forget  that  the  best 
preparation  for  heaven  is  in  that  character  which  will  fit 
you  for  the  greatest  usefulness  on  earth. 

Since,  then,  the  problems — the  great  problems  in  life 
— that  come  from  the  intersection  and  blending  of  the 
circular  and  onward  movements  are  solved  theoretically 
by  Christianity  ;  and  since,  through  that,  you  can  make  the 
most  practically,  of  the  interests  involved  in  each  move 
ment,  the  one  thing  needful  for  you  is  to  be  Christians. 
At  this  hour,  when  so  many  voices  are  calling  you,  the 
one  voice  which  you  are  to  hear  is  that  of  Him,  who 
says,  "  Follow  Me."  Hear  that  voice,  and  then  you  wil 
take  your  places  under  His  banner  by  the  side  of  those 
who  are  waging  with  Him  the  great  battle  of  all  time.  It 
is  around  Him  that  the  thick  of  this  battle  has  always 
been.  Around  Him  it  always  will  be.  Take,  then,  your 
places.  You  are  needed.  The  veterans  are  falling.  Who 
shall  take  their  places?  The  strong  men  are  fainting. 
Who  shall  succor  them  ?  Go  ye,  and  the  earth  shall  be 
better  and  happier  for  your  having  lived  in  it.     Go  ;  and 


374  CIRCULAR  AND   ONWARD   MOVEMENT. 

when  the  time  of  your  departure  shall  come,  you  will  be 
able  to  say  what  he  said  who  was  a  standard-bearer  in  this 
College  for  more  than  forty  years,  and  for  whom  both  its 
chapel  and  this  desk  are  now  draped  in  mourning.*  When 
consciously  dying,  and  but  just  able  to  speak,  he  said — 
"  If  we  view  it  scripturally,  death  is  but  stepping  out  of  one 
room  in  our  Father's  house  into  another ;  and,  in  this  in- 
stance, without  doubt,  into  a  larger  and  pleasanter  room.'' 

*  Professor  Albert  Hopkins. 


XXL 

MEMORIAL    DISCOURSE    ON    PRESIDENT    GARFIELD, 

Prepared  at  the  Request  of  the  Trustees  of  Williams  College. 

ONE  year  ago  to-day  !  Who  does  not  remember  the 
scenes  of  that  Fourth  of  July,  and  of  the  two  days 
preceding?  Who  does  not  remember  the  darkness  and 
chill  of  that  eclipse  into  which  our  Commencement  passed 
so  suddenly  from  the  sunshine  of  brightest  hope  ? 

One  year  ago  to-day — and  to-day  it  is  the  heart  that 
should  speak.  It  is  only  the  tribute  of  our  hearts  that  is 
called  for  in  response  to  a  heart  that  then  beat  warmly  for 
us,  but  now  is  still.  Certainly  no  further  biography  or 
encomium  of  President  Garfield  can  be  needed  for  his  own 
sake.  Probably— I  think  I  may  say  certainly— no  equal 
number  of  spoken  and  pubHshed  tributes  was  ever  called 
forth  by  the  life  and  death  of  any  man  within  so  short  a 
time.  The  chosen  orator  of  the  nation  has  spoken — grandly 
spoken.  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  head  of  the 
English  Church,  has  spoken.  The  most  eloquent  pulpit 
orator  of  France,  Father  Hyacinthe,  has  spoken,  and  re- 
peated his  discourse.  Embassadors,  senators,  the  pulpit, 
the  bar,  friendship,  admiration,  patriotism,  have  spoken, 
and  no  words  of  mine,  were  that  my  aspiration,  could 
reach  the  height  of  those  already  uttered. 

Nor  is  anything  more  needed  for  the  general  public. 
The  excitement,  wonderful  as  it  was,  and  long-continued, 

***  Because  of  sickness  in  the  family  of  the  Author,  read  before  the  trustees 
and  the  alumni  at  Williamstown,  Mass.,  by  Rev.  Dr.  S.  I.  Prime,  July  4,  1882. 

375 


376        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 

is  past.  When  President  Garfield,  as  he  lay  on  his  bed  of 
suffering,  was  told  how  intense  and  extensive  the  sympathy 
for  him  was,  he  said  :  "  This  cannot  last.  No  one  nian 
can  long  hold  the  attention  of  the  nation."  But  it  did 
last.  For  seventy-7iine  days  the  tension  was  not  relaxed. 
Every  day  the  beating  of  his  pulse  was  felt  from  Maine  to 
Florida,  and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  Every- 
where there  was  the  anxious  look,  there  was  secret  weep- 
ing, prayers  went  up,  and  there  was  the  constant  alterna- 
tion of  hope  and  fear.  And  not  only  did  it  last  in  this 
country,  but  throughout  the  civilized  world.  In  England 
and  on  the  continent,  as  I  can  testify,  the  daily  and  eager 
inquiry  among  all  classes  was  for  the  health  of  President 
Garfield.  It  did  last  as  long  as  the  life  of  the  heroic 
sufferer  lasted,  and  then  it  reached  its  culmination.  The 
cities  in  this  land  and  in  other  lands  were  darkened  by 
tokens  of  mourning.  In  every  town  through  which  the 
body  passed  from  Elberon  to  lie  in  state  under  the  dome 
of  the  Capitol  the  people  gathered  in  crowds  and  stood 
with  uncovered  heads.  As  he  lay  under  that  dome  the 
long  procession  passed  to  view  his  face  for  the  last  time. 
There,  too,  at  an  appointed  hour,  while  the  city  held  its 
breath,  the  stricken  wife  was  alone  with  her  dead.  On 
the  day  of  the  funeral  business  was  suspended  ;  the  peo- 
ple gathered  in  their  places  of  worship;  there  was  a  hushed 
sympathy  throughout  the  Union ;  to  this  the  Atlantic  was 
no  barrier,  and  it  has  been  estimated  that  not  less  than 
300,000,000  of  people  were  reached  by  the  shadow,  and 
touched  by  the  spell  of  that  hour.  Every  State  was  pres- 
ent at  Cleveland  by  its  representatives.  Twenty  govern- 
ors of  States,  each  with  his  staff,  were  present.  Side  by 
side  with  those  of  the  Union,  the  Queen  of  England  laid 
her  floral  tribute  on  the  bier.  And  so,  with  an  attendance  of 
60,000  people,  his  body  was  borne  to  its  final  resting  place. 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT  GARFIELD.        377 

But  nothing  violent  or  intense  can  last  always.  The 
tomb  had  received  him,  and  the  gloom  became  less.  There 
were  rifts  in  the  clouds.  The  waters  began  to  return  to 
their  accustomed  channels.  The  government,  as  only  such 
a  government  could  have  done,  moved  on  without  a  ripple. 
The  period  of  mourning  appointed  for  the  army  and  navy 
passed  away,  and  the  second  great  tragic  scene  in  the 
drama  of  our  historic  life  came  to  its  close. 

But  though  the  general  course  of  nature  after  storms 
and  floods  may  be  as  before,  yet  how  often  is  it  found,  not 
only  that  hopes  are  blighted  by  harvests  destroyed,  but 
that  here  a  field,  and  there  a  garden,  that  before  had  been 
green  and  fruitful,  or  beautiful  and  fragrant,  have  been 
swept  by  a  desolation  from  which  they  can  never  recover. 
And  so  it  has  been  here.  Ours  is  not  the  desolation  of  the 
home,  but  our  most  illustrious  graduate,  a  member  of  the 
board  of  Trustees,  whose  interest  in  the  subject  of  educa- 
tion was  special,  and  who  greatly  loved  and  honored  the 
college,  has  been  taken  from  us  at  a  moment  when  he  had 
attained  the  highest  honor  in  the  gift  of  the  nation.  He 
has  been  taken  from  us  at  a  moment  when  we  hoped  for 
inspiration  from  his  zeal,  and  guidance  from  his  counsels, 
and  that  his  annual  visits  here,  where  he  had  arranged  that 
his  sons  should  tread  the  same  walks  trodden  by  himself, 
would  make  the  college  conspicuous  throughout  the  coun- 
try. Be  it  then  that  all  has  been  said  that  can  be  said, 
all  that  is  demanded  by  the  fame  of  President  Garfield, 
or  by  the  general  public,  it  has  yet  seemed  to  the  Trustees 
to  be  most  fit  that  at  this  their  first  meeting  since  his 
death,  at  this  first  gathering  of  the  alumni  since  then,  there 
should  be  some  commemorative  service  in  which  we  may 
place  ourselves  by  the  side  of  those  more  deeply  bereaved, 
may  look  for  a  little  at  that  in  him  which  so  fixed  the  at- 
tention of  the  world  ;  may  recognize  his  love  for  the  col- 


378        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

lege  ;  and,  possibly,  may  gather  from  his  career  some  les- 
sons for  our  own  guidance. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  intense  and  extended  sympathy 
there  was  in  connection  with  the  sickness  and  death  of 
President  Garfield.  That  sympathy  made  him  the  con- 
spicuous figure  in  the  opening  of  a  new  chapter — perhaps 
I  may  say  a  new  era — in  the  history  of  our  race.  There 
was  never  anything  like  it.  There  never  could  have  been. 
Up  to  that  time  that  quick  and  diffusive  element  in  nature 
which  symbolizes  human  sympathy  had  not  so  lent  itself  to 
man  that  such  sympathy  had  been  possible.  For  ages  the 
gambols  of  electricity  in  the  clouds  had  awakened  the  thun- 
der, its  bolts  had  smitten  the  earth,  it  had  streamed  up  in 
long  lines  in  the  aurora,  but  it  had  waited  for  a  Franklin,  a 
Henry,  a  Morse,  a  Field,  so  to  tame  it  and  bring  it  under 
the  yoke  of  service  to  man  that  its  slightest  whisper 
should  far  outleap  the  thunder,  and  that  the  long  wires 
for  its  instantaneous  transit  should  become  bands  of  steel 
to  bind  and  hold  fast  in  amity  nations  whom  oceans  had 
separated.  Up  to  that  time  such  sympathy  could  not 
have  been.  Then  it  could  be  ;  and  through  it  new  pos- 
sibilities of  the  union  of  the  whole  race  through  common 
sympathies  in  one  brotherhood,  were  revealed. 

When  a  new  era  is  to  be  opened  there  is  needed  pre 
vious  preparation.  There  must  be,  first,  the  essential 
conditions.  There  is  then  needed  the  right  man  to  stand 
at  its  opening — one  in  whom  its  elements  shall  be  in- 
carnated, and  who  shall  illustrate  its  spirit.  And  not 
more  signally  was  Luther  fitted  to  stand  at  the  opening  of 
the  Reformation,  or  Washington  at  the  opening  of  a  new 
era  of  civil  liberty,  than  was  Garfield  to  stand  at  the  open- 
ing of  this  new  era  in  that  movement  toward  brotherhood 
which  had  been  originated  nearly  1900  years  ago. 

How  well  fitted  he  was  thus  to  stand  will  appear  in 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.         379 

part  if  we  look  at  the  number  of  points  in  himself,  or  in 
his  career,  at  which  he  touched  our  common  humanity  or 
some  one  of  its  phases.  In  this  he  was  without  a  par- 
allel. 

There  were  first,  his  early  struggles.  In  these — and 
perhaps  it  is  the  only  point — he  had  an  advantage  not 
common  to  all.  For  some,  for  the  many,  early  poverty  is 
a  misfortune  ;  but  in  this  country,  or  at  least  in  this  part 
of  it,  a  poverty  with  no  taint  of  low  vice  or  of  vulgarity, 
an  incident  of  pioneer  life  having  often  in  it  a  heroic 
element,  and  inherited  by  one  who  has  the  strength  to  face 
and  overcome  the  obstacles  it  brings,  is  an  advantage, 
especially  if  he  is  to  enter  political  life.  When  party 
capital  was  to  be  made,  Lincoln  was  the  railsplitter,  and 
Garfield  was  the  canal-boy.  This  could  not  have  been 
among  an  ignorant  people,  or  one  where  society  was 
stratified  by  caste  or  class  distinctions,  and  where  honest 
labor  was  not  honored.  But  among  an  intelligent  people 
pervaded  by  the  ideas  of  liberty  and  equality,  the  coming 
up  from  a  log  cabin  of  a  barefooted  boy — barefooted  be- 
cause of  poverty-^was  a  delight,  and  the  more  so  as  they 
saw  it  to  be  a  legitimate  result  of  free  institutions  by 
means  open  to  all. 

In  these  early  struggles  President  Garfield  resembled 
President  Lincoln,  but  his  struggles  were  more  steady  in 
their  aim  and  more  diversified  in  their  means,  and  so  were 
adapted  to  awaken  a  wider  sympathy.  President  Lincoln 
was  a  rail- splitter,  but  he  was  not  a  carpenter,  or  a  school- 
master. He  did  not  aim  at  high  literary  culture,  and 
sweep  the  floor,  and  make  the  fires,  and  ring  the  bell,  for 
his  tuition.  But  these  things  President  Garfield  did.  He 
did  them  cheerfully,  faithfully,  as  means  to  an  end, 
pushing  them  behind  him  as  the  swimmer  pushes  the 
water  that  bears  him  forward.    In  doing  this  he  conferred 


38o        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 

a  benefit  upon  the  whole  people  by  giving  new  emphasis 
to  the  truth  that  high  aims  ennoble  all  legitimate  means 
for  their  attainment.  This  truth  Christianity  teaches  in 
connection  with  the  higher  aims  and  deeper  struggles  that 
pertain  to  a  future  life  ;  but  we  need  to  have  it  taught, 
also,  and  illustrated  in  connection  with  political  and 
social  life.  With  this  truth  practically  accepted  we  have 
a /^^//^  self-respecting,  stable,  capable  of  self-government ; 
with  it  ignored,  we  have  a  populace^  with  no  steady  aim, 
the  prey  of  despotism,  or  the  seat  of  anarchy. 

But  as  President  Garfield  had,  from  his  early  struggles, 
in  common  with  President  Lincoln,  a  ground  for  the 
sympathy  of  the  masses,  so  had  he,  from  his  broad 
scholarship  and  varied  attainments,  in  common  with  John 
Quincy  Adams,  a  ground  for  sympathy  with  persons  of 
the  highest  culture.  It  was  a  common  remark,  at  the 
time  of  his  inauguration,  and  has  been  since — I  heard  it 
from  a  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court — that  no  President 
except  John  Quincy  Adams  had  been  equally  equipped  in 
scholarship  and  statesmanship.  He  was  president  of  the 
Literary  Society  of  Washington.  If  a  rare  book  was  absent 
from  the  congressional  library,  Mr.  Spofford  was  wont  to 
say  that  either  Mr.  Sumner  or  Mr.  Garfield  must  have  it. 
He  not  only  kept  up  his  classics,  but  studied  the  old 
Latin  authors.  Hence  his  high  appreciation  of  the 
scholarly  sympathy  of  Mr.  Evarts,  in  sending  him  from 
England,  when  he  was  on  his  sick  bed,  a  copy  of  a  rare 
edition  of  Horace.  He  acquired  modern  languages,  and 
while  he  was  leader  of  the  House,  and  during  its  stormiest 
times,  he  wrote  for  the  magazines.  It  was  but  twenty- 
five  years  after  his  graduation,  and  yet  in  that  brief  time  he 
had  not  only  risen  to  be  the  chosen  ruler  of  50,000,000  of 
people,  and  thus  the  peer  of  the  greatest  monarch  on 
earth,  but  by  his  speeches  and  his  words,  that  have  been 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT  GARFIELD.        38 1 

caught  up  and  made  imperishable,  he  has  already  taken 
his  place  among 

"  The  great  of  old, 

The  dead,  but  sceptred  sov'reigns  who  still  rule 

Our  spirits  from  their  urns." 

Between  these  two  extremes,  the  early  struggles  of 
which  John  Quincy  Adams  knew  nothing,  and  the  broad 
scholarship  and  literary  culture  of  which  President 
Lincoln  knew  nothing,  President  Garfield  was  in  po- 
sitions and  performed  duties  of  which  neither  of  them 
knew  anything,  and  which  brought  him  into  that  special 
sympathy  with  large  classes  which  comes  from  being 
one  of  them.  He  was  an  under-teacher  ;  the  head 
of  a  college ;  after  the  manner  of  the  disciples,  a 
preacher  ;  a  member  of  the  State  Senate  ;  a  colonel  in  the 
army  ;  a  brigadier-general ;  a  major-general  ;  a  member- 
elect  of  Congress  ;  and  all  this  before  he  had  been  out 
of  college  eight  years.  A  rise  so  rapid  in  both  civil  and 
military  life  is  without  example  in  the  country.  He  was 
thus  brought  into  close  sympathy  with  the  great  body  of 
teachers,  and  especially  with  the  great  body  of  soldiers 
who  were  then,  from  the  prevalent  war  spirit,  and  who 
continue  to  be,  a  controlling  element  in  the  country. 

His  election  to  Congress  in  1863  was  while  he  was  in 
the  army,  and  from  no  agency  of  his  ;  and  it  was  only  by 
the  earnest  wish  of  President  Lincoln  and  Secretary 
Stanton  that  he  was  induced  to  abandon  his  military  career 
and  prospects.  He  was  poor,  the  pay  of  a  major-general 
was  double  that  of  a  member  of  Congress ;  he  had  been 
successful,  the  soldierly  element  was  in  him,  and  he  felt 
within  himself  the  power  to  succeed  ;  but  at  the  call  of 
duty  he  made  the  sacrifice. 

Entering  the  House  of  Representatives  at  the  age  of 
thirty-two,  with  a  single  exception  its  youngest  member, 


382        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

he  soon  became  prominent,  and  on  the  election  of  Mr. 
Blaine  to  the  Senate,  became  the  leader  of  the  House.  In 
Congress  he  continued  seventeen  years,  having  been 
elected  nine  times  in  succession  by  a  constituency  as  in- 
telligent and  exacting  as  any  in  the  Union.  During  that 
time  he  was  far  more  a  statesman  than  a  partisan,  and  both 
by  his  speeches  and  his  labors  on  committees  became 
known  and  felt  throughout  the  country  as  one  of  the  con- 
trolling forces  of  the  government. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  he  became  known  as  a 
lawyer  •  and  here  again  his  course  was  without  a  parallel. 
His  first  plea  was  before  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States.  There,  without  fee  or  reward,  in  a  case  that  en- 
dangered his  popularity,  but  in  the  cause  of  civil  liberty, 
with  the  Attorney-General  and  General  Butler  opposed  to 
him,  and  associated  with  Judge  Black  and  the  Hon.  David 
Dudley  Field,  he  made  his  first  plea.  The  cause  was 
won,  and  this  plea  gave  him  at  once  a  high  standing  and 
continued  practice  in  the  Supreme  Court. 

Of  his  election  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and 
his  nomination  for  the  presidency,  both  unsought  by  him, 
I  will  not  speak,  but  pass  to  his  campaign  speeches,  for 
in  them  we  have  our  best  illustration  of  the  versatility  of 
his  powers,  of  their  perfect  training,  and  of  that  hidden 
force  which  brought  his  hearers  into  sympathy  with  him. 
Of  his  making  these  speeches  Mr.  Blaine  speaks  par- 
ticularly. There  were  seventy  of  them — not  ordinary 
campaign  speeches  that  could  be  prepared  and  repeated, 
but  speeches  impromptu,  made  to  delegations  and  assem- 
blies of  the  utmost  diversity.  They  were  made  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  advice  of  his  party  friends,  in  disregard  of  the 
discreet  and  successful  silence  of  General  Grant  and  of  the 
failure  of  others  ;  made  at  a  time  when  the  opening  of  his 
mouth  by  a  candidate  was  eagerly  watched  for  by  his 


DISCOURSE    ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.        383 

opponents,  and  dreaded  by  his  party.  But  Gen.  Garfield 
knew  his  own  powers  and  made  no  mistake.  He  met 
every  occasion  freely  and  frankly,  till  at  length  apprehen- 
sion passed  into  confidence  and  confidence  into  surprise 
and  admiration.  Probably  not  another  man  in  the  Union 
could  have  done  that. 

From  this  uniform,  and  equal,  and  great  success  in 
such  diversified  lines,  it  will  appear  that  there  must  have 
been  in  the  powers  of  President  Garfield  not  only  strength 
but  symmetry.  That  is  what  we  need— strength  and 
symmetry— a  combination  of  these.  Without  this  in  him 
sympathy  must  have  been  impaired,  and  this  he  had  in  an 
eminent  degree.  Hence  his  greatness  was  not  that  of  the 
Swiss  Matterhorn— the  elevation  of  a  single  shaft,  inac- 
cessible in  its  height,  and  that  dwarfs  everything  about  it- 
It  was  rather  that  of  a  broad  table-land,  where  there  is 
equal  elevation,  but  by  gradual  ascent,  and  with  verdure 
all  the  way  up.  Hence,  too,  though  his  rise  was  so  rapid, 
there  was  no  point  of  transition  where  he  lost  the  sym- 
pathy of  those  about  him.  There  were  emergencies  and 
crises.  They  came  thick  and  fast.  But  when  the  hour 
struck  that  called  for  the  man,  the  man  was  there,  and  he 
was  so  the  man  that  it  seemed  perfectly  natural  he  should 
be  there  and  rule  the  spirit  of  the  hour. 

In  thus  touching  our  humanity  at  so  many  points  and 
so  evenly,  there  was  nothing  in  President  Garfield,  as 
there  has  been  in  so  many  other  great  men,  that  awakened 
repulsion  or  was  obstructive  of  sympathy.  There  was  no 
affectation,  or  assumption,  no  coldness  of  manner.  There 
was  just  the  simplicity  and  earnestness  and  sincerity,  the 
naturalness  and  true  gentility  of  an  unspoiled  and  large 
manhood. 

We  have  thus  a  remarkable  combination  of  qualities  in 
connection  with  great  achievements.     Was  anything  more 


384        DISCOURSE  ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

needed  to  account  for  the  sympathy  mentioned  ;  or  to  fit 
President  Garfield  to  stand  at  the  opening  of  the  new  era 
of  brotherhood  now  made  possible  ?  Yes,  two  things. 
There  was  needed,  first,  a  wealth  of  affection — a  develop- 
ment of  the  heart  on  the  same  plane  with  that  of  the  in- 
tellect and  the  will.  And  this  there  was.  Of  this  the  first 
sphere  was  the  home.  Into  that  we  m^ay  not  enter,  but 
we  know  how  he  honored  both  his  mother  and  his  wife, 
and  the  kiss  which  he  gave  them  on  inauguration  day  was 
not  more  a  token  of  affection  than  a  public  and  deserved 
recognition  of  their  helpfulness  in  the  struggles  through 
which  he  had  passed.  His  attachments  were  strong,  his 
friendships  faithful  and  lasting,  and  there  was  a  general 
kindliness  that  impressed  all  with  whom  he  was  associ- 
ated. 

And  here,  perhaps,  I  may  be  permitted  to  mention, 
especially  since  I  have  seen  a  statement  of  it  in  print 
not  entirely  accurate,  how  I  first  came  fully  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  this  affectionate  element  as  taking  its  equal  place 
in  the  trinity  of  his  nature.  He  had  become  one  of  the 
great  men  of  the  nation,  had  returned  to  visit  the  college 
at  its  commencement,  and,  the  evening  after,  attended  the 
reception  at  my  house.  In  the  midst  of  the  throng  he  put 
his  arm  around  me  and  said,  *'  I  don't  believe  you  know 
how  much  we  love  you."  Few  men  who  have  ever  lived 
could  have  done  that. 

But  the  illustration  especially  in  point  here  is  from  the 
regard  he  showed  for  his  classmates  and  the  alumni  in 
connection  with  his  inauguration.  Quite  a  number  of  his 
classmates  were  in  the  city,  and  when  we  remember  the 
cares  that  had  been  on  him,  and  the  scenes  that  were  be- 
fore him,  it  is  not  a  little  remarkable  that,  in  accordance 
with  his  own  wish  and  suggestion,  he  should  have  met  with 
them  the  evening  before  the  inauguration  at  a  social  sup- 


DISCOURSE   ON  PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.        385 

per  where  he  was  one  among  them  precisely  as  of  old. 
Still  more  remarkable  was  it  that  he  should  have  arranged 
for  a  reception  of  the  alumni  of  the  college  at  the  White 
House  immediately  after  the  inauguration.  To  appreciate 
this  rightly  one  must  have  witnessed  the  scenes  of  the  day. 
In  the  morning,  escorted  by  the  elite  of  the  army,  he 
passed  through  the  huzzahing  crowd  from  the  White  House 
to  the  Capitol.  There,  in  the  presence  of  each  depart- 
ment of  the  government,  and  of  a  multitude,  vast  and 
surging  like  the  sea,  he  took  the  oath  of  office  and  pro- 
nounced that  grand  inaugural.  Returning  as  he  went,  he 
stood  before  the  White  House  with  uncovered  head  while 
the  gleaming  forest  of  bayonets  that  filled  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  from  end  to  end  passed  in  review  before  him. 
Then,  before  the  sun  went  down,  he  turned  and  gave  his 
first  reception  to  the  alumni  of  his  college.  No  one  who 
was  present  can  ever  forget  it.  Beautiful  it  was,  and  next 
to  the  kiss  of  his  mother. 

One  thing  more  was  needed.  He  who  had  never  known 
defeat,  whose  physical  powers  were  exuberant,  who  had 
such  a  family  about  him,  who  had  just  reached  the  highest 
position  this  great  country  had  to  give,  and  who  had  such 
prospects  before  him  was  to  be  struck  down  in  a  moment 
by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  and  be  obliged  to  look  death 
in  the  face  for  seventy-nine  days,  under  the  gaze  of  two 
continents.  That  was  such  a  test  as  no  man  had  before 
been  brought  to.  He  needed  the  power  to  stand  that  test, 
and  that  power  he  had.  He  had  had  a  Christian  mother, 
and  from  a  child  had  known  the  Holy  Scriptures,  At 
eighteen  he  had  intelligently  accepted  and  professed  Chris- 
tianity, and  had  sought  to  commend  it  to  others.  On  the 
top  of  Greylock,  when  the  hour  came  to  read  a  chapter  in 
the  Bible  with  his  absent  mother,  he  proposed  to  his  com- 
panions to  read  it  aloud,  and  called  for  prayer.     He  did 


386        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

not  know  Christianity  simply  as  a  creed,  but  also  as  a  ser- 
vice and  a  ground  of  support.  He  put  his  hand  into  the 
hand  of  one  who  had  said,  "  When  thou  passest  through 
the  waters  I  will  be  with  thee,  and  through  the  rivers  they 
shall  not  overflow  thee  ;  when  thou  walkest  through  the 
fire  thou  shalt  not  be  burned,  neither  shall  the  flame 
kindle  upon  thee."  And  so  it  was.  The  waters  did  not 
overflow  him,  neither  was  there  the  smell  of  fire  on  his 
garments.  Deprived,  as  I  think,  unwisely,  of  the  presence 
of  his  pastor,  and  of  the  near  friend  with  whom  he  had 
been  wont  to  hold  Christian  communion,  his  hope  in  God 
did  not  falter.  The  anchor  had  been  cast  within  the  vail, 
and  it  held.  There  was  no  bravado,  or  stoicism,  or  indif- 
ference. He  wished  to  live.  When  told  there  was  but 
one  chance  he  said,  "  I  will  take  that  chance."  But  he 
also  said  :  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  die  ;  "  and  so,  with  no  move- 
ment or  word  that  could  impair  sympathy,  but  with  the 
sympathy  and  admiration  of  the  waiting  continents  con- 
stantly augmenting,  he  passed  into  the  shadow  of  that 
valley  which  we  call  dark,  but  which  was  light  to  him. 

Thus  was  his  life  rounded  out  up  to  that  point.  There 
are  those  who  think  that  if  he  had  lived  he  would  have 
been  less  distinguished  for  executive,  than  for  intellectual 
power.  For  this  I  see  no  reason  except  the  rarity  of  the 
combination  it  would  have  required,  I  know,  indeed,  no 
instance  in  history  of  a  man  great  in  debate,  or  as  an 
orator  even,  who  has  been  equally  distinguished  for  execu- 
tive capacity.  One  reason  for  this  may  have  been  that  the 
opportunity  for  distinction  in  both  is  seldom  offered  to  the 
same  man  ;  but  the  chief  reason  is  that  the  habits  of  mind 
required  for  debate  and  for  prompt  and  decisive  action  in 
emergencies  are  entirely  different,  and  in  most  men  incom- 
patible. Still,  they  are  no  more  incompatible  than  strong 
imagination  and  sound  judgment,  or  than  coolness  and  in- 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.         387 

tense  action,  and  from  every  indication  of  his  military- 
life,  and  his  bearing  before  dissenting  conventions  and 
opposing  majorities,  especially  from  the  speeches  he  made 
and  the  stand  he  took  on  the  vital  question  of  finance,  we 
may  well  believe  that  in  him  intellect  would  have  found 
its  true  function  in  ministering  to  both  wise  and  efficient 
action,  and  that  his  administration  would  have  been  as 
efficient  as  it  would  have  been  wise. 

And  while  President  Garfield  touched  our  humanity  at 
so  many  points,  it  is  noticeable  how  entirely  he  touched  it 
by  that  in  him  which  is  essential  to  our  humanity.  It 
does  not  seem  possible  that  anyone  should  reach  the  posi- 
tion he  attained  with  less  that  is  extraneous  or  factitious. 
He  did  not  attain  wealth.  He  was  not  in  the  ranks  of 
fashion.  He  did  not  disregard  its  conventionalities,  but  he 
was  not  their  slave.  In  everything  pertaining  to  his  relig- 
ious life  there  was  the  utmost  simplicity.  He  was  of  a 
denomination  little  known  in  the  country  at  large  ;  the 
Bible  was  his  creed,  and  during  the  whole  time  he  was  in 
Washington,  and  while  he  was  President,  surrounded  as  he 
was  by  elegant  and  fashionable  churches,  he  worshipped  in 
a  house  hardly  equal  to  the  ordinary  school-houses  in  New 
England.  There  was  in  him  simple  manhood  battling  as 
best  it  might. 

I  make  no  attempt  to  interpret  the  providence  which 
permitted  the  death  of  President  Garfield  at  such  a  time 
and  in  such  a  manner.  To  me  clouds  and  darkness  are 
round  about  it.  But  that  he  was  eminently  fitted  in  him- 
self, and  in  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  to  be  the  object 
of  a  gaze  which  should  illustrate  the  power  of  sympathy  in 
the  new  conditions  under  which  the  race  is  placed  will  not 
be  denied.  Through  their  common  sympathy  with  him 
men  were  brought  into  sympathy  and  permanent  kindly 
relations  with  each  other.     The  good  accomplished  by  this 


388         DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

we  have  no  means  of  measuring,  but  that  it  was  great  we 
know.  The  common  sympathy  with  him  united  the  North 
and  the  South  as  nothing  else  could.  That  was  a  great 
thing.  It  so  loosened  the  fastenings  of  old  grudges  be- 
tween this  country  and  England,  and  allayed  more  recent 
irritations,  as  to  make  war  at  that  time  impossible,  and  to 
diminish  the  probability  of  it  for  a  long  time  to  come.  The 
messages  of  the  Queen  will  not  soon  be  forgotten,  and  the 
fragrance  of  the  flowers  which  the  telegraph  enabled  her 
to  lay  upon  the  bier  will  last  for  a  generation.  In  other 
countries  of  Europe,  as  Germany,  and  Austria,  in  Turkey 
even,  there  was  a  similar  sympathy  through  which  there 
was  a  fuller  apprehension  and  a  better  appreciation  of  our 
free  institutions  than  could  otherwise  have  been. 

Under  former  conditions,  it  has  been  impossible  to 
unite  men  of  distant  countries  and  different  nations. 
There  has  been  no  common  centre  of  a  sympathy  through 
which  divisive  elements  might  be  dissolved,  and  no  quick 
and  effective  means  of  transmitting  any  sympathy  there 
may  have  been.  But  now,  if  there  were  such  a  centre 
of  sympathy,  the  possibility  of  a  felt  brotherhood  and  of 
a  unity  of  the  race  through  the  heart  would  be  indicated 
by  the  results  of  which  I  have  just  spoken.  Such  a  centre 
of  sympathy  we  believe  there  will  be,  and  that  the  short- 
sighted views  of  interest,  and  the  antipathy  of  races,  and 
difference  of  religions  and  of  creeds  under  the  same 
religion,  will  melt  away  in  a  common  sympathy  with  Him, 
and  a  common  love  for  Him,  who  has  been  lifted  up  and 
will  draw  all  men  unto  Him,  and  in  drawing  them  unto 
Himself,  will  draw  them  to  each  other. 

We  have  thus  seen  what  President  Garfield  came  to  be 
and  some  of  its  results.  How  he  came  to  be  what  he  was 
is  of  little  moment  except  as  it  may  aid  others  who  wish 
to  make  full  men  of  themselves,  and  may  aid  the  friends 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT  GARFIELD.         389 

of  education  in  providing  the  best  means  to  enable  them 
to  do  that.  In  neither  respect  does  his  career  suggest 
anything  absolutely  new,  but  in  both  respects  much  that 
needs  enforcement. 

What  he  did  will  aid  others  chiefly  as  a  fresh  illustra- 
tion of  two  principles  that  no  successful  student  can 
ignore.  One  is,  that  nothing  that  lives  can  grow  except 
by  its  own  activity.  This  is  because,  in  all  growth,  life 
works  from  itself  outward.  That  is  its  law.  The  other 
principle  is,  that  all  mental  discipline  and  symmetrical 
growth  are  from  activity  of  the  mind  under  the  yoke  of 
the  will  or  personal  power.  Activity  of  the  mind  in  which 
the  attention  is  held  steady  to  one  point,  going  out  it  may 
be  in  many  directions,  but  always  holding  the  thread  and 
returning,  is  mental  labor.  It  is  work,  and  may  be  of  the 
hardest  and  most  exhausting  kind.  Say  what  you  will  of 
genius,  or  of  gifts  and  aptitudes  in  particular  directions, 
no  man  can  come  to  the  front  in  any  line  of  business  or 
of  thought  and  hold  his  position  there  without  a  thorough 
study  of  principles  and  of  details  under  them.  Especially 
can  no  man  become  a  legislator,  or  debater  on  the  broad 
field  of  statesmanship,  without  a  wide  knowledge,  not  only 
of  principles,  but  of  what  has  been,  of  what  ought  to  be, 
and  of  what,  under  the  circumstances,  is  the  best  that  can 
be.  As  no  two  cases  are  precisely  alike,  strict  experience 
cannot  be  a  guide.  The  man  must  be  governed,  not  by 
rules,  but  by  principles,  and  the  power  to  comprehend 
principles  and  to  apply  them  under  new  and  varying 
circumstances,  is  the  last  result  of  patient  and  comprehen- 
sive thought.  It  is  through  such  processes  as  I  have 
mentioned,  silent  and  long  continued,  that  great  efforts 
are  made  that  seem  extemporaneous.  In  a  sense  they  are, 
but  the  reservoir  must  have  been  filled  before  the  waters 
could  flow.     It  is,  too,  by  such  processes  that  what  are 


390        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

called  self-made  men  are  made ;  but  no  man  reaches  high 
power  in  this  line  who  is  not  essentially  self-made.  The 
two  principles  I  have  mentioned  were  perfectly  understood 
by  President  Garfield.  Of  strenuous  and  persistent  work 
in  accordance  with  them  we  have  no  more  conspicuous 
example  than  was  he,  and  that  example  will,  no  doubt,  be 
a  stimulus  and  a  guide  to  very  many. 

Suggestions  from  his  career  that  would  aid  us  in 
training  upon  this  ground  such  men  as  he  was,  there  is 
little  time  to  consider.  By  such  men  I  do  not  mean  men 
who  shall  fill  similar  positions.  The  positions  men  are  to 
fill  must  be  determined  by  the  times  in  which  they  live. 
I  mean  men  who  shall  make  the  most  of  themselves,  and 
be  equal  to  any  position  to  which  they  may  be  called. 
Whether  such  men  shall  be  formed  here  will  depend 
partly  on  the  material  furnished  from  which  to  form  them, 
and  partly  on  the  college.  In  President  Garfield,  when  a 
student,  we  had  the  right  material.  Eighteen  years  ago, 
v/riting  to  Mr.  Gilmore,  who  desired  to  write  his  life  at 
that  early  day,  I  said  :  "  Gen.  Garfield  gave  himself  to 
study  with  a  zest  and  delight  wholly  unknown  to  those 
who  find  in  it  a  routine.  A  rehgious  man  and  a  man  of 
principle,  he  pursued  of  his  own  accord  the  ends  proposed 
by  the  Institution.  He  was  prompt,  frank,  manly,  social 
in  his  tendencies,  combining  active  exercise  with  habits  of 
study,  and  thus  did  for  himself  what  it  is  the  object  of  a 
college  to  enable  every  young  man  to  do — he  made  him- 
self a  man,  ^' He  pursued  of  his  own  accord  the  ends  proposed 
by  the  Institutioiir  Give  us  students  who  will  do  that  and 
it  is  all  we  ask.  To  teach  a  class  of  such  young  men 
would  be  a  joy.  Full  co-operation  throughout  between 
teachers  and  students  is  the  one  thing  needed  for  the  best 
results  of  a  college.  For  this  nothing  can  be  a  substitute. 
But   this  cannot   be   unless   llie  students  have  been  well 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.        39I 

trained  at  home.  The  family,  not  the  school  or  the  college, 
is  the  seed-plot  of  society.  If  the  students  sent  us  are  in- 
different, or  averse  to  study,  if  they  are  of  the  calibre  and 
taste  to  do  hereditary  tricks,  and  perpetuate  hereditary 
annoyances,  if  they  tend  to  mischief  or  dissipation  and 
vice,  or  even  to  distinction  in  inter-collegiate  games  rather 
than  in  collegiate  studies,  they  may  be  advised  to  leave 
college,  or  patience  and  hope  may  tide  them  over  the  four 
years,  but  the  ends  proposed  by  the  founders  and  bene- 
factors of  our  colleges,  and  sought  by  their  trustees  and 
teachers,  will  not  be  reached. 

But  while  so  much  depends  on  the  student,  much  also 
depends  on  the  college.  Be  it  that  every  man  is  self- 
made  through  his  own  mental  activity,  yet  his  processes 
will  vary  with  his  associates,  his  teachers,  and  his  sur- 
roundings. The  affection  of  President  Garfield  for  this 
college  was  based  on  what  it  had  done  for  him.  Of  this 
he  often  and  freely  spoke.  The  years  he  spent  here  were 
formative,  and  years  of  rapid  and  extensive  acquisition. 
And  what  the  college  did  for  him  we  would  have  it  do 
for  others,  only  more  and  better.  The  problem  of  the 
college,  by  no  means  solved  as  yet,  is  to  furnish  the  best 
possible  means  of  growth  during  its  period  of  education. 

As  furnishing  such  means  of  growth  during  that  period, 
the  college  may  be  compared  to  the  nutriment  that  sur- 
rounds the  living  germs  in  a  seed  during  the  first  period 
of  the  growth  of  a  plant.  During  that  period  of  vegetable 
life  the  proper  nutriment  is  provided.  The  germ  does 
not  select  it  for  itself.  It  is  pravided,  and  the  germ  feeds 
upon  it  till  it  forms  roots  and  leaves,  and  the  plant  is 
ready  to  enter,  as  its  second  stage,  upon  its  own  inde-^ 
pendent  life.  Then  it  selects  its  own  food,  it  explores 
the  soil  for  it,  it  absorbs  it  from  the  atmosphere,  it  battles 
with  the  winds,  and  the  promise  with  which  it  enters  upon 


392        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

this  second  stage  of  its  life  will  depend  on  the  vitality  of 
the  germ,  and  the  fitness  and  abundance  of  the  nutriment 
it  has  received. 

The  two  things,  then,  to  be  attended  to  are  the  sur- 
rounding nutriment,  and  the  living  germ. 

In  the  surrounding  nutriment — in  whatever  goes  to 
make  up  opportunity,  in  buildings,  and  apparatus  and 
cabinets,  and  the  library,  there  has  been  a  great  advance 
in  this  college  within  my  remembrance.  These  we  must 
have  to  some  extent,  and  we  need  them  to  such  an  extent 
and  in  such  a  form  as  shall  keep  us  in  close  relation  with 
advancing  literature  and  science,  and  as  shall  correspond 
with  the  tastes  and  wants  of  our  day.  To  these,  additions 
have  just  been  made  in  the  Clark  building,  presented  by 
an  alumnus  and  trustee  of  the  college,  and  remarkable  for 
its  combined  solidity  and  elegance;  in  the  Wilder  cabinet 
that  worthily  fills  it;  in  the  Field  observatory,  an  addition 
to  various  gifts  that  have  gone  before  ;  and,  through  a 
donation  unexampled  in  its  amount  in  the  history  of  the 
college,  an  addition  that  will  be  magnificent  when  it  is 
finished,  has  been  provided  for  by  Governor  Morgan.  In 
these  the  friends  of  this  college,  and  the  friends  of  educa- 
tion everywhere,  have  reason  to  rejoice. 

But  the  student  is  not  an  unconscious  germ  with  no 
alternative  possible.  These  provisions  being  made,  and 
teachers  being  provided,  how  far  shall  we  go  in  prescrib- 
ing the  use  to  b^.  made  of  them  ?  Here  wisdom  is  needed. 
No  doubt  the  changed  relation  of  the  sciences,  and  the 
ample  and  more  diversified  fields  for  action,  demand 
changes  in  the  course  of  study.  But,  if  the  course  of 
study  is  to  be  liberal^  rather  than  professional  and  tech- 
nical, it  would  seem  that,  from  the  wealth  of  new  fields, 
and  the  pressure  of  new  studies,  there  would  be  more 
need  than  ever  before  of  a  wise  selection  and  proportion- 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.         393 

ing  of  the  studies  to  be  chosen,  and  that,  aside  from  indo- 
lence and  caprice,  this  could  be  better  done  by  those  who 
had  been  over  the  ground  than  by  those  who  had  not. 
Some  room  for  option  there  should  be,  especially  in 
branches  where  original  bent  counts  for  much,  and  in  the 
later  years.  I  could  wish  the  range  for  it  enlarged  to 
include  at  least  music  and  drawing,  but  would  not  have 
it  interfere  with  a  fixed  course  that  should  secure  breadth. 
Breadth  was  a  special  characteristic  of  President  Garfield, 
and  I  should  hope  that  the  tendency  to  that  in  college 
education  might  not  be  impaired.  I  would  not  have 
the  college  become  a  school  for  training  specialists  in- 
stead of  men.  I  would  neither  have  a  blur  cast  upon 
the  meaning  of  its  diploma,  nor  have  that  diploma  de- 
graded to  the  level  of  a  certificate  of  progress  in  specific 
studies. 

We  now  turn  to  the  living  germ.  It  is  for  this  that 
provision  is  made  ;  on  this  anxiety  centres.  Can  anything 
be  done  directly  to  quicken  and  strengthen  this  ?  If  so, 
it  must  be  by  the  teacher.  Only  life  acts  directly  upon 
life.  We  here  reach  the  vital  point  in  a  college,  and  also 
a  special  difficulty.  Up  to  this  point  what  was  required 
money  could  buy,  and  there  are  some  things  required  in 
a  teacher  that  money  can  buy.  A  teacher  needs  to  k7umK 
With  money  enough  we  can  secure  teachers  who  know  the 
subjects  they  are  to  teach.  But  that  is  not  enough.  It 
may  be,  especially  on  some  subjects,  that  the  more  a  man 
knows  the  poorer  teacher  he  is.  He  needs  not  only  to 
know,  but  to  know  hmv — how  to  teach,  and  how  to  manage 
a  class.  Can  this  be  bought  ?  Not  always.  The  teacher 
needs  aptitude,  and  discrimination  of  character,  and 
patience,  and  self-control,  and  these  money  will  not  always 
secure.  In  general,  however,  it  may  be  said,  that  with 
proper  provision  for  salaries — and  this  is  the  point  at  which 


394        DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD. 

our  colleges  need  money — the  culture  of  the  intellect  and 
of  taste  may  be,  in  a  good  measure,  secured. 

But  it  is  the  moral  nature,  and  not  the  intellect,  that 
lies  deepest  in  man.  That  is  central.  In  that  we  find  the 
living  and  immortal  germ.  Quickened  by  the  beams  of 
the  Sun  of  righteousness  it  is  from  that  that  we  have  the 
blossom,  the  fragrance  and  the  fruit  of  our  humanity. 
The  intellect  may  be  stimulated  by  appetite,  or  desire,  or 
passion,  and  the  results  in  literature  and  the  arts  may  be 
admirable,  but  without  the  inspiration  and  guidance  of 
the  moral  nature  there  will  be  no  broad  wisdom.  In 
ignoring  that,  an  attempt  is  made  to  educate  the  man  with 
the  man  left  out ;  and  theorists  and  educators,  with  their 
endless  systems  and  methods,  will  continue  to  roll  the 
stone  of  Sisyphus  up  the  mountain  to  have  it  return  upon 
themselves.  It  is  that,  then,  in  the  student  that  needs 
to  be  quickened  and  strengthened.  But  if  this  is  to  be 
done  by  the  teacher  it  cannot  be  by  any  action  of  the  mere 
intellect.  It  must  be  through  the  action  of  his  moral  nat- 
ure. There  must  be  love  exerting  itself  wisely  with  ref- 
erence to  the  whole  good  of  the  student.  This  will  be 
valuable  in  the  individual,  but  where  it  exists  in  a  body  of 
teachers  working  together  there  will  be  an  atmosphere  that 
can  be  created  in  no  other  way,  and  that  is  invaluable  in 
education.  This  money  cannot  buy.  But  without  it  our 
colleges  are  liable  to  become  hotbeds  of  corruption  ;  and 
they  never  can  become  what  they  should  be  till  both 
teachers  and  students  hear  the  voice  of  the  great  Teacher, 
saying,  ''''Learn  of  Me.''  That  voice  President  Garfield 
heard  before  he  came  to  college.  "  That,"  as  he  said, 
**  settled  canal,  and  lake,  and  sea,  and  everything."  Under 
the  influence  of  that  his  whole  nature  came  into  harmony. 
Not  the  intellect  only,  but  the  ??ia?i,  the  whole  man  to- 
gether, with  the  powers  in   right  relation,  entered  on  a 


DISCOURSE   ON   PRESIDENT   GARFIELD.         395 

course  of  education.  Hence  the  temptations  of  college 
life  he  scarcely  knew  as  temptations,  and  with  such  aids  as 
every  one  may  have,  he  went  on  from  step  to  step  till  he 
became  the  man  he  was.  Encouraged  by  such  a  result,  due 
in  part  and  so  largely  to  the  college,  it  remains  for  us,  the 
alumni  and  the  friends  of  education,  to  make  provision  on 
this  ground  such  that  the  college  shall  continue  to  be  hon- 
ored as  it  has  been,  or  even  more,  in  its  alumni,  and  shall  do 
its  full  proportion  in  the  time  to  come,  in  raising  up  for  the 
country  and  the  world  such  men  as  President  Garfield  was. 
I  have  thus,  in  accordance  with  the  wish  of  the  Trus- 
tees, sought  to  pay,  in  some  measure,  the  tribute  of  affec- 
tion and  honor  due  from  the  College,  and  I  may  add,  es- 
pecially from  myself,  to  one  who  so  honored  the  College, 
a  beloved  fellow  alumnus,  one  of  its  trustees,  one  who  was 
honored  and  mourned  by  the  nation  and  the  world.  On 
the  day  of  his  inauguration,  addressing  him  in  behalf  of 
the  alumni  then  present,  I  said  to  him  that  I  was  the  only 
president  of  a  college  who  had  ever  lived  to  see  one  who 
had  graduated  under  him  President  of  the  United  States. 
How  little  did  I  then  think  that  I  should  survive  him,  and 
be  called  to  such  a  service  as  this !  But  so  it  is,  and  in 
view  of  the  mystery  that  enshrouds  his  assassination  as 
permitted  under  the  Providence  of  God,  I  can  only  adopt, 
in  closing,  the  words  used  by  him  on  a  great  occasion 
in  immediate  connection  with  the  assassination  of  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  :  ''  Fellow-citizens  !  Clouds  and  darkness 
are  round  about  Him  !  His  pavilion  is  dark  waters  and 
thick  clouds  of  the  skies  !  Justice  and  judgment  are  the 
habitation  of  His  throne  !  Mercy  and  truth  shall  go  be- 
fore His  face  !  Fellow-citizens  !  God  reigns,  and  the 
government  at  Washington  still  lives."  Yes,  God  reigns  ; 
and,  "  Therefore  will  not  we  fear,  though  the  earth  be  re- 
moved, and  though  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the 
midst  of  the  sea.'* 


'uoisiaiQ 


'/PHS 


'^  mhin\\%  nu  >^ 


tw^ 


